Finding Eden
by NeJ Kazuki
Summary: As Malik takes his place as the new leader of the Assassin's Guild, he promotes Altair and a few others to stand by his side and aid him. Together, the group work to find more of the Pieces of Eden before the Templar's do. However, in the future...
1. Foggy Day in Acre Town

Finding Eden

A/N: Update on 8-4-09.

I'm going back and editing the chapters. This chapter, didn't have much to change other than a few small details, and fixing a few grammatical errors I found.

As for those first reading this, this story is based on different random "theories" or "ideas" from the Assassin's Creed universe I have. Should the games come along before I finish this story, I will keep to my own ideas. There are quite a few "original characters". They are used for both the plot, and foils to Altair's character. I probably portray him differently from other people, its hard to actually know what true personality he has.

The random title? I was listening to Michael Buble' at the time.

Read, and enjoy.

Disclaimer: Assassin's Creed characters and plot devices belong to Ubisoft. Original characters, used to help move along the plot, so I guess I own them.

* * *

Chapter One:

_Foggy day in Acre Town_

~*~

It was so miserably boring for him.

Usually Altair at this time was traveling to another city, jumping across roof tops gracefully and silently, or swaying through the busy marketplace crowds. Trudging among weary souls, blended amongst the afternoon gossip.

He sighed, flipping through another page of the musty old book. Occasionally, he enjoyed reading, he appreciated those wise writers before his time and the legacy they left behind. But not for hours on end, that being his only entertainment, the only activity to pass the time with. He rolled his eyes, closing the book, watching dust fly from it's pages, scattering and fading in the dim bureau.

His dark hazel eyes searched for the light above, he exhaled a deep breath, his posture slumped. Acre itself always had that gloomy scheme and mood, and being assigned as temporary bureau leader left him feeling horribly exhausted. Clouds crowded the skies of the shabby region of this city, and Altair longed for sunlight, if only a tiny ray to radiate into his empty corridors.

Altair fell backwards, sitting down in a chair he had obtained for himself, feet propped up on the desk, nearly knocking over *Alain's little incense lamp. Propped in his lap, another text book. He closed his eyes, seeing Malik's stern face, a sharp finger pointed between Altair's eyes. The other assassin had commanded him to study certain materials over his time of "office watching". And Malik promised, when he got back he would quiz him, and if he failed or Malik didn't find his knowledge adequate, Altair would probably be drowning in pages and texts forever.

He stared at the book's hard cover, a rustic orange, the spine was starting to wear away. He opened it mid way, ready to devote his attention once more to literature, until he heard a faint clinging of metal, and sweeping of fabric. Foot steps from the outside patio of his office started to echo louder towards him. In a swift motion, a slim figure dressed in white passed by him, waving nonchalantly. Altair rose his eyebrows greeting them, although their eyes never met. The visitor spun around, back leaning against the wall, then slowly sinking down to the floor.

Altair sat back up, swinging is legs off the desk. He looked at the hooded slump on his floor. "Abyad," he started.

Abyad looked up at him, sky blue eyes still bright in the gray tinted atmosphere about them. "Any news?" a shake of the head was his answer, Altair sighed. "Maybe we'll find something out tomorrow or later." Altair reached behind him, grabbing a random book, and tossed it at Abyad, directly hitting the other assassin's forehead.

Abyad tumbled over on the ground, jumping up quickly to snap a heated glare at Altair, who shrugged. "Study up with me if you're just going to laze around my bureau."

Abyad pointed at the little lamp, lips pursed together angrily, peachy cheeks glowing red.

"Okay, Alain's bureau." Altair retorted, propping his feet back up, leaning back in his chair to balance it on the two back legs. Abyad's sudden sharp moment caught his eye, and Altair found himself falling out of his position, dodging a speeding canteen lunging towards his face. He listened to the item click around the stone floor, he reached for it, pushing himself back up to exchange glances with Abyad. Abyad at this time was making a dunking motion, as if the two were both in water, eyes still leering.

"Fine, fine. How about a game of chess then?"

Abyad's eyes rolled, he took a step backwards, then circled around on his toes. Altair jumped over the counter.

Despite his lonely time in Acre, he had Abyad most of the time to keep him company. The mute boy was nearly done with his training to be a master assassin as well. Though he usually took the job as an Informat. Altair didn't see how that made much sense, on a count of, Abyad couldn't speak. But he was a quick scribe, with very neat hand writing.

He was very good at surveying around Acre, probably one of the reasons why he was also taken in by the guild—he was very misplaced with his scrawny and pale figure—he blended right in. He understood English perfectly, he'd probably be speaking it with that interesting accent of their's if he could speak at all, and he could perfectly translate German. A useful skill when sneaking about the Teutonic Knights.

Altair sat down, the chess board between the two of them. He passed a quick smiled to Abyad, who had yet to lower his angry glare. Altair felt somewhat indebted to him. Abyad saved him from going insane with boredom, and gave him someone to communicate with.

Although communication was usually just Altair pretending to talk to Abyad, who would be ignoring him or glaring at him, causing Altair to pretend to be the other assassin and reply to his own questions.

He was going to lose it if he had to run the bureau any longer, he concluded.

Altair remembered the violent dunking motion from just a few moments before. Abyad, as ordered by Malik, became Altair's swimming teacher. Seemed like a fair deal to him, receive proper swimming instruction—though sometimes he swore that Abyad was just trying to drown him—in exchange for expertise in combat. Slightly embrassing, but fair nonetheless.

Abyad started to position his white pawns, then took a short break reaching over, grabbing an idle blanket to wrap around his cold body. He didn't have much to him to keep him warm in the cold, desert winters. Altair's eyes focused on the dagger hilt that peered across his opponents shoulder. Despite Abyad's tiny psyche, and lack of strength, he more than made up for it in speed. Abyad already, Altair found himself first having trouble trying to admit it, had mastered using his dagger, and probably could defeat Altair if the two went against another with the shorter blades. Unless Altair had ahold of the smaller man had him pinned to the ground.

Abyad had finished positioning his pawns, grinning up at Altair, waiting for his mentor to make the first move. And yet another thing, Abyad was very intelligent. Altair could sense impending defeat.

Altair's fingers glided across the top of the pieces, until one in particular he felt was the right to move forwards. Abyad quickly countered back, Altair sighed. "At least act like your trying before you slaughter me."

Abyad smirked up at Altair, and then his vibrant eyes darted towards the entrance. Altair's gaze followed his.

Another hooded visitor appeared, leaning against the door frame, one hand on his hip, the other propped up on the other side of the wall holding him up. His legs crossed another, and he jerked his head back to drop his hood. A handsome face beamed at the two, with a contagious smile and warm dark brown eyes. His black hair was combed backwards, the ends poking out from the bottom of his ears.

"Good afternoon you two!" his deep voice echoed, booming against the deary walls.

Abyad's face lit up, and he waved ecstatically towards the other man. Altair waved with less energy, eyebrows incredulously, confused. "Rais? What are you doing here?"

Rais, a master assassin much like Altair, usually worked in the areas around Masayf. He was still young, not too much older than Malik, with a cheeky and out-going attitude. A proud family man married to his lovely wife, with two daughters. He taught students for the guild as well, Altair couldn't remember the last time he was this far from Masayf, it'd have to of been many years ago.

The newest man rubbed his dark goatee, "You didn't get my letter?" he whined, pouting.

Abyad eyes widened, and he searched through his outfit frantically. Altair rolled his eyes. "I guess I would of gotten it," he replied, the crumpled letter slid across the checker board towards him. The younger assassin mouthed an apology.

"Don't worry about opening it. Should of probably of sent it back in Masayf, but my messenger hawk is old and dumb. Poor thing would of probably ended up in Damascus, then on a sliver platter for those greedy merchants," his eyes settled to Abyad. "What did happen to my bird?"

Abyad shrugged.

"Ah well."

Altair grabbed another pillow, throwing it next to his side, pointing for Rais to take a seat. "So why are you here Rais?"

"Well, Malik had wanted me to come here. Not to sure why." He shrugged, plopping down on the ground, legs stretched out, arms propping him up. "Making me travel away from home...how I miss my beautiful wife and my crazy children already." he sulked, sighing despairingly.

Abyad smiled, his body making the motion of laughing, but in silence. Altair moved another piece, and Abyad countered, his eyes not even focused on the board, but still on Rais.

"So I guess that means Malik is going to meet us here first?" Altair asked, edging another piece forward. "Why wouldn't he just have us—come on Abyad, at least pretend to try!" he groaned.

"Maybe he's just making sure that Alain gets back here safely? He's the eldest of us all. Then I assume the rest of us will travel back together."

The bureau fell into silence, aside from the periodic clacking of the wooden chess pieces across the board. Rais, who had his chin placed on the top of his knees, eyes watching the game, and mind else where, suddenly smirked. "Oh. And Malik said to make sure you were studying."

Altair laughed. "Malik doesn't trust me now does he?" he said, watching Abyad casually take one of his pawns away. Altair's eyes narrowed, coughing to clear his throat. "Mostly writings on biblical text. Lots of different stories, accounts, letters, that sort of thing. Abyad and I have attended some of the Sabbath meetings as well. Not to sure why Malik has a sudden interest in Christianity."

"Well," Rais shrugged. "We still are fighting the Crusaders. Perhaps this is some way to obtain additional information about them?"

Altair shook his head, "I don't think studying stories is the right way to go about that."

Six chess games, all which Abyad claimed victory of, another book, and nights rest, Altair found himself struggling to keep his eyes opened. His head nestled against the pages of a book, mind completely over-whelmed. At this rate, he was never going to read ever again.

Abyad shook the older man's shoulders, as Rais came trotting through the door his teeth chattering loudly against another.

"Okay boys, time to take a break." Rais announced, throwing two loafs of bread at Abyad.

Abyad caught them, quickly taking a bite out of one, and poking Altair in the head with the other until the man regained consciousness, or turned angry enough to react. Altair grabbed Abyad's wrist, slowly lifting his head. "Thanks Rais."

"No problem." Rais smiled, taking a large bite. He chewed hastily, and shallowed. "My wife makes much better bread." Abyad nodded in agreement. "My poor song bird, she must be cold and lonely...or insane. Our hyper little demons we call children. If only I was at her side, to strength her--"

Altair and Abyad exchanged glances, both amused at the mans rambling. Their gazes turned to the adjacent wall, where a lone door suddenly opened. Alain stood there, inspecting the room carefully, his eyes not even focused on or acknowledging the existence of the other assassin's.

"Everything is actually in one piece. Very good, boy."

"Thanks?" Altair softly muttered.

Malik floated up behind Alain, closing the door behind him. The door was added for Alain, who complained that an old man shouldn't be having to climb up buildings. "Ah! It's warm in here! Good!" He smiled first at Abyad, quickly making his way towards the younger man, giving him a tight, but fast hug around the shoulder. Malik had taken Abyad in when he was a younger, the two were practically brothers, just differentiated by blood. "Great to see you well! You to Altair," he turned back to Rais, holding his hand out for him. The two grabbed another by the forearm tensely, "Glad you made it all the wait out to Acre! Sorry to have you leave Masayf."

"No problem at all sir." Rais chuckled at the formality. "Of course I need to obey orders from our new leader. It is official now right?"

"Yes it is!"

Altair stood up. "Finally, it's only been six, now almost seven months?" He jumped over the desk, patting Malik on the back. "Glad to serve you...Master."

The two laughed, Malik placed his hands on Altair's shoulders. "Now tell me Altair, did you do what I asked?"

"Unfortunately."

"And...?"

"I think I have a headache that is never going to go away. And I think my vision has suddenly gotten worse..."

"Good. You did it right then."

Alain groaned, returning to his place behind the desk. He propped a pillow against the back of the chair, sitting down with a relieved sigh. His fingers moved to tinker with his precious lamp. "Cut the little reunions, you have important matters to discuss."

"Right!" Malik and Altair both followed another to the counter, sitting down on it next to another. Rais took his place leaning against a wall, while Abyad sitting comfortably on a pile of pillows. "As you know, I visited *Amalut, that still has influence and reign over our guild back home in Masayf. Alain came with me, to help vouch for our decision that I take over.

"While there, I had to relay the events of six, roughly seven months ago in the Summer. The nine assassinations by Altair, our struggle against the Templars, and finally even our own Master Al Mualim. How the Templars were looking for the Piece of Eden, and it's powers."

Altair turned to Malik, "Which is still hidden right? You didn't hand it over to Amalut did you?"

Malik shook his head. "I did not. The leaders of Amalut did want to see it, or possibly take it into possession. But I denied them."

"Good, how were we to know if they were in league with Al Mualim anyways?" Rais added.

"I highly doubt they were. Al Mualim probably never even told them of it's existence." Altair retorted, sounding rather bitter, a near grimace on his face as the words escaped his lips. Malik patted him on the shoulder.

"They understood though. Trusting us to not abuse it's powers. And if we do, they'll send their own on our kin."

"Fair enough." Alain scoffed.

Altair shifted, eyes focused on Abyad. "So why did you have me studying up on Christianity?" the younger assassin quickly pointed between himself, Altair, and Rais. "And why have the three of us here waiting for your return?"

"I actually had Rais steal something for me in a small village outside of Acre." Malik said, Rais grinned and shrugged at Altair. "Guess he didn't tell you?"

"I don't like ruining surprises." Rais laughed, Altair sighed. He reached into the pack hanging on the back of his hip, pulling out a small, worn leather book. "Was quite surprised you had me steal something Malik. Not quite like you." he made his way towards Malik, book outstretched.

"Well, I didn't think the church officials were going to let us look at it or possibly borrow it." Malik took the item, then shoved it into Altair's chest. "Something else for you to study."

Altair moaned, "Why do you hate me so?"

"Next order of business. I want to start heading back to Masayf." The other assassin's looked at Alain, perplexed. Why would he be heading back to Masayf with them, instead of staying in Acre?

Malik chuckled to himself. "I also wanted to tell you, my leadership is going to run a bit differently. Not to sure what the proper term would be, but it's something I thought would be beneficial to keep me in check."

"So you don't end up turning us into puppets?" Rais joked, already back to leaning against the wall. "That wasn't a very fun experience." he grimaced.

"Haha, and that's one of the main reasons. Alain, as our eldest and wisest assassin," Alain smirked triumphantly. "Will be at my right hand. Along with you Rais, a skilled and experienced assassin, teacher, and someone I trust the most. Altair, you as well. I need someone with your skill. Someone who has seen the power of the Piece of Eden. And Abyad, you to my brother. You may not have as many duties as the others, but you will be traveling with them, and helping us very much."

Abyad's grin nearly stretched to both of his ears. Rais nodded, smiling contently, "Such an honor, Master."

Altair seemed shocked more than anything. He looked at Malik, who smiled back. His friend's smile gave him some ease of mind. "But still--" Altair stuttered out. "Why have me studying? Come on Malik, you've yet to answer me."

Malik jumped off the counter, patting Altair's head. "I have a few things to take care in Acre still. Start reading! Abyad, you're with me."

"Malik! No! Get back here!"

Rais skipped out of the bureau. "I need to go find my stupid bird!"

"Malik!! You—gah. I hate you." Altair pouted, watching as the others left him alone with Alain. He turned to the older man, "Do you know why?"

"Get off my counter."

* * *

*Alain is what I'm naming the Acre's bureau leader. I looked on IMDB and used his voice actors name. :] Not sure if it mentions the characters name in the credit...but ah wells.

*Amalut was sorta like the Assassin's Guild in Masayf, yet they had granted the real "Al Mualim's" leadership. Apparently they had a bad-a fortress around...Turkey? I already forgot the research I did...


	2. Clarity

**Disclaimer: **AC characters belong to Ubisoft.

**A/N:** 9-10-09

I swear I haven't neglected you Fic! But yet, I am still not so happy. For those who have read this, I have taken and combined the second and third chapter. I hated the second before. Things are rushed and seemed thrown together. Frankly, I'm at a loss to figure out a way to make it better. But, instead of dwelling on the past, I am excited for what I have planned in the future, and should use that to push on. I apologize for choppiness, and grammar errors that might of escaped me.

* * *

Chapter Two:  
_Clarity_

_~*~  
_

They were about half a days travel away from Masayf. The group made it to the closet village outside their home before night fall. Before the winter became even more dangerous. Altair made sure they found shelter quickly, he wasn't fond of the night. Like birds of prey, he felt uneasy, and not at his peak of ability in the darkness. Luckily, the assassin's found an ally to stay the night with. It was risky to enter an Inn, drawing the attention of Crusades stationed in the area.

Altair causally chatted with Rais, both wrapped in their own fleece blanket, watching the warm fire dance around in the darkness. Malik and Abyad had made themselves comfortable, writing back and forth to another by candlelight. Alain conversed with the man who opened his house to them, referring to him as friend, reminiscing over the days gone by. He took a deep breath, the scent lingering of a filling meal, the heat of the flames, both intoxicating and soothing.

"How do you think they'll take it?" Rais asked, eyes connecting with Altair.

Altair's brows rose. "Take what?"

"Malik being in charge. Is his one of the youngest, if not the youngest, to ever lead the guild." his dark eyes retreated to the flames. "I heard the leaders of Alamut wanted Alain to be in charge."

"I assume Alain declined?"

"Felt he was too old," he scratched his freshly shaved chin as a smile crept across his lips. "He's told me he sees so much promise in Malik. He was the right choice, the best candidate."

Altair gazed over his shoulder, Malik looked back him, seeming flushed from over hearing the complement. They both smiled at another, before breaking away. "I agree." he courtly replied. His smile turned uneasy, Altair sighed, disheartened. "I don't see why I've been chosen to help him lead as well. I've never been much of a leader. I've spent my life following orders. It wasn't until much recently I started making my own decisions." he took a deep breath, his head fell to the side, eyes softening on the flames. "Now this? It seems illogical, I don't feel like I'm a correct candidate for this."

"Malik has faith in you." Rais' hand relaxed on Altair's shoulder. He shook him gently, Altair found his touch amicable, very fatherly, he couldn't help but smile. "Learn to see that, and embrace it for yourself."

Altair nodded back. He felt uplifted just hearing Rais' words, his soothing touch. Rais had that affect on people. He had a fatherly, comforting air about him. The perfect person to confide in. Nothing could break his smile, even on the battlefield. Altair used to remember looking up to him for his skill. One time, before his pride had consumed him, he once admired Rais' attitude, and respect towards anyone he met. Part of him once wanted to be like that.

But faith, his eyes narrowed. That affirming comfort he felt from Rais' words, gave into the lingering uncertainty of the word. He had lived by faith, anyone who had seen him in action on the field knew that. Faith, he pondered harder, shoulders slumping drawing his knees to his chest. A Christian word, a Muslim word, a wonderful word. To trust what you can't see, but now that bothered him. His thoughts turning towards the Piece of Eden, imaging that dangerous golden ball, glistening with terrible temptation.

Rais suddenly jumped to his feet, the motion snapping Altair out of his trance. "Okay my children, time to go to bed. We've got the last leg of our journey to finish. And I want to get back home as fast as possible."

Abyad frowned, Malik patted his back. "He's right, let's get some sleep."

"Children?" Altair scoffed. "You aren't too much older than us."

"Yes, but you bachelors have yet to find the real joys that make life worthwhile. You're still but little boys in my eyes."

"Because we aren't married yet?" Malik chuckled, grabbing Abyad's arm lightly, hand at his ears. "I've heard women cut years off your lifespan."

~*~

Masayf was just like how he remembered it. Peaceful, but busy streets. Though, when he had left, brown, dried grass had covered the ground. Now there was snow, blanketing the ground, and lingering in the distance mountains that were his home's landscape. The blood red shawls of his brothers, brilliant, standing out as they patrolled about. Smoke loomed from the houses, billowing up to the gray skies. Malik took a deep breath, the cold stinging his lungs at first, but warm as he exhaled. It was good to finally be back home.

Malik's peaceful observation of his home was rudely interrupted by a sharp nudge from Altair. Malik shot him a quick glare, seeing Altair grinning wickedly at him. "What do you want?!" He snapped. Although afraid to find out what was going to come out of the man's mouth.

"There she is!" Altair exclaimed, pointing ahead, eying one particular face in the throng. Malik followed Altair's finger, "And looks like the parade of horses through the streets of Masayf has caught her attention, time to act Malik!"

Malik's usually composed face turned ghostly pale, white as the mane of his horse his gaze immediately darted to. He punched Altair in the shoulder, who just laughed. He didn't need to look up to know what Altair had sighted.

"And the sweet Nazahah is coming this way, and what a beautiful smile on her face!" his voice seemed to sing in a taunting manner. Altair had reared his horse to ride along side of Abyad, who shot him a glare for messing with Malik. "Her eyes are settled on you Malik, right Abyad?"

The blue eyed man nodded happily, shaking Malik's shoulder.

Malik silently cursed under his breath, then slowly looked up. All the people around them, waving, smiling, they all seemed to vanish. All he could see, in his mind, the most gorgeous woman in the world, briskly gliding her way through the crowd. He thought of her dark, deep, brown eyes had connected with his, and he prayed and yet, forsook the idea that she was smiling at him. Only him.

His stomached turned uncomfortably, a string of curse words flying through his mind. He tried to block out the thoughts of the possibly, Nazahah was only the most sought after single women in all of Masayf. He closed his eyes, recalling pages of text, reciting different works of literature, anything to block out the image of her to compose himself.

"You better talk to her, or I'm going to kick you." Altair threatened.

"Shut up before I throw my sword at you."

Rais jumped down from his horse, rushing to a particular woman in the crowd. He kissed her, and hugged her gently, for she was quite pregnant. Then, he picked up two little girls, spinning around with them in his arms. They laughed together, glowing blissfully in the dreary atmosphere.

"How lovely," Alain sighed disgustedly, rearing his horse to break away from the others, trotting on his own lonely path.

"Malik! Abyad!" Malik froze, listening to a beautiful voice sing above the noisy crowd. His horse seemed to stop dead in it's tracks. Nazahah stood there, smiling up at him, laughing as his horse rubbed his nose against her thick, wavy black hair. He felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. His hand started to shake nervously.

"Welcome home!" she greeted.

"Thank you!" Malik replied, Altair was close next to him, looming over his shoulder.

"Hey Nazahah!" he beamed, Malik pushed him away, scowling.

"Oh, sorry I didn't see you Altair!"

"That's just fine."

Her gaze turned to Abyad. "I made you a new coat," Abyad jumped down from his chestnut colored mare, giving Nazahah a quick hug, a brief arm over the shoulder, to show gratitude. "You should come over and get it! And Malik, I've made you a scarf! I'll have Abyad bring it to you!"

"Oh, thank you so much!" Malik replied, watching as Nazahah turned, dragging Abyad away. Altair taunted him, whispering in his friend's ear about the ridiculous size of the grin on his face.

Nazahah lived with her mother, a widow, both making their living by their--in his mind-- perfected skill of sewing. Nazahah would spend some afternoon's teaching other young, newly wed brides her trade. Her own mother, scolding her, believing she now was too old to marry, and would live the rest of her years miserable. Nazahah would just smile, but when did she never not smile, as her mother scolded her. She held firm to her belief, instead of rushing off to marry, but to wait.

Just more about her to admire.

"Competition?" Altair shyly said, eyes tracing Abyad's fading figure.

"No," Malik chuckled. "She treats him like he was her own little sister..." Altair eyebrows rose, baffled by what he heard.

~*~

Malik felt their hour long break fly by quickly. He and Altair left his house together, musing over the days to come.

Altair felt distracted, noticing how the snow turned to slush under his boots. The weather was growing warmer, not much longer and the harsh winter would end, and spring would be upon them. His eyes quickly met with the sky, watching as an eagle soared by in perfect timing. A new journey, a new mission for him was about to take place.

Yet, as winter ended, war would start up again once more. As Spring wisped her hands across the sleeping around, as the plains turned green, as flowers were born, life in the Holy Land would be populated with dead bodies.

The open, wintry scenery turned dim, encased in gray stone. He and Malik waved through the fortress, torch in his hand, watching their shadows follow them down the dark halls. It was quiet for today. Absent from the sound of men training, or scholars pacing around the library, discussing politics and philosophy with another.

Finally, at the room at the end of a hallway. Altair firmly shut the wooden door behind them. Rais and Abyad lit a few candles that lingered on the wooden table, providing more light. Only a few beams of light from the outside world managed to escaped through the windows.

Altair pulled out his chair, sitting down with a heavy sigh. It was the first time today he felt he had gotten to relax for more than a mere second. All he and Malik did on their previous break was unpack.

"So, Malik," he started, eyes shifting to the right, connecting with Malik, who sat at the head of the table. Malik watched as his friend's eyes turned playful. The leader smiled at Altair's excitement. "Finally, your secret agenda comes out."

"I hope I don't disappoint you, Altair."

"Frankly, me to. You've left me anticipating this moment for far too long."

Rais sat down next to Altair. Abyad wrapped a blanket around Alain's shoulders, the two shared a quick smile, before he took his seat next to him.

Altair focused on Malik. The book the other man held he recognized. It was one of the novels he had read back in the bureau, complete with his own annotations. Malik slid it across the table to him. Altair caught it, examining it carefully.

"Altair, what did you read about in this book?"

"Moses," his head snapped up. He first looked at Malik, and then his focus shifted around the table. "The story of trying to liberate his people. The plagues, the parting of the Red Sea. His and the Jews struggle in the wildness."

"What gave him the power to part the Sea? The Plagues?" Malik asked.

"A staff I believe, given to him by God."

Malik's fingers lingered on another book. His focus on Abyad. He recognized the book as well as it slid to him. "Abyad, what did you read about?"

They gave him a second to jot his thoughts down, Alain cleared his throat. "This account was about an Israelite, named Samson. Apparently an Angel told his mother, that he was to be a Nazrite. I'm not to entirely sure of what that means...but at the time, the Israelites lived under the rule of the Philistines. Samson had amazing strength, and fought and killed many Philistines."

Another book skited across the table. "Noah," Rais took no time to be addressed. "If I think I know where you're getting at Malik, the unique thing about this man, was how long he lived. Far greater than the lifespan of a man in our time."

Malik smiled to his response. He stood up, fingers stilled lingering on the table. As he walked, they caressed the edges, "Thank you all for your studying. These stories we have read, about these Christian men, who have worked miracles in the name of their God. They all have some unique, special ability that sets them apart, given to them by their deity. Moses, a man who could part a sea, and bring forth terrible plagues down to Earth. But, what gave him this power? A staff."

Altair rubbed his chin, an idea popping into his mind. "Al Mualim, when talking about the Piece of Eden, he mentioned that being a mere illusion. The parting of the sea, water to wine, the miracles men had worked." a sudden pain pricked his stomach. He remembered the time that very man sunk his dagger into his flesh. It might have been a mere illusion, but the pain was real.

Malik's grin quickly returned. "Yes, Altair. The Piece within our possessions has such powers as that." He paced back to his seat, pulling up a larger piece of parchment. Sketched out was the recognizable shape of a continents, countries, dotted with different markings, ink notes chaotically scribbled throughout the paper.

"As you might remember Altair, the moment after which you defeated Al Mualim."

"*The Piece, it opened a map. Of what we can guess is all of Earth, or part of Earth?"

"I looked at it with Alain. We identified many countries. France, Greece, Italy, many more. The golden dots lingering on the map, we have but one conclusion to what they must be."

"More Pieces of Eden." Altair replied, quietly in awe.

"Brother," Abyad held a piece of paper in the air. Again the group waited patiently. "You're concluding that stories passed down from ancient times. Men, working in the name of God, the miracles they achieved were brought on by the powers of different Pieces of Eden?" Alain stopped, Abyad reaching over to write down a few more lines. "I wonder if the Templars have caught on to this. Just the fact, more of these Artifacts exist..."

Rais smirked, leaning back in his chair, arms relaxed behind his head. "And this is where our next mission begin."

"I've researched that one of the Pieces might be in Bethlehem. I want you Rais, and Altair to go down their and investigate. Alain, Abyad, and I will remain here, getting things reorganized, and finding the locations of more Pieces."

* * *

*So about the location of the Pieces of Eden. I actually found a screenshot of that moment in the game where the map is opened. A few of the locations I had in mind are actually not on that map.

But, since this is fanfic. I'm bending the rules a bit. Hope y'all don't mind.


	3. Contention

**A/N: **

About time I get to start this chapter. Well...I could of earlier, but it's been a lazy week. Unfortunately of course, the time I decide to procrastinate writing, is the time the chapter will be fairly long compared to the others. But, I decided to cut it in half.

I also found out I was so far behind on Kings! So I had to catch up...it's an awesome show!

But anyways, enjoy this chapter! My portrayal of Bethlehem isn't all so good, sorry.

**Disclaimer:** Assassin's Creed characters belong to Ubisoft. OC's, to me, for the story.

* * *

Chapter Three:  
_Contention_

~*~

Altair followed Rais example, and jerked on the reigns of his horse, slowing it to a steady trot. He casually patted his horse's black mane, leaning down swiftly, lightly pecking the back of her neck with his lips.

Rais fell back, strolling next to his companion's side. He passed Altair a quick smile. Altair returned it, watching Rais stretch yawning loudly.

"It's getting warmer. About time!" Rais spoke at the end of his yawn, some of the words muffled as he covered his mouth, yawning once more. He grinned as the contagious yawn passed to the younger man.

Altair leered lightly. "I could barely understand you. But yes, it is getting warmer." he shook his hood off his head, feeling the warm sunlight peeking through the dark skies against his tan skin.

"Altair," Rais started, catching his gaze. "Your eyes are gray."

Altair blinked, uncertain how to act to Rais' unexpected statement. "Oh really? I did not know that." he replied, matter-of-factly.

"Yes. Yes they are," Rais shrugged, grinning proudly of his random observation. "Your eyes are like like my wife's. Usually hers are light brown, but sometimes, they'll have a greenish tint to them, a dark hazel tone."

Altair sensed the rest of the conversation to the gates of Bethlehem would be Rais pinning about missing his sweet girls and beloved wife. "So, I'm guessing my eyes change color?"

"You didn't know that?"

Altair was silent for a second. "I don't pay attention?" Rais bought that, mumbling how it made sense, since Altair was quite oblivious to small details. Apparently. Altair slumped in his saddle.

As they reached the top of the hill, they looked down upon a browned plain. Shepherds were in the fields, watching over sheep. Some walked along side the animals, hoping to help them find food, waving their canes through the remaining snow. A dirt path, winded down to where no grass could go from the travel of many, lead through the fields to a large city, encompassed by faded stone walls.

Rais sighed deeply, smiling at the city. Though, it seemed forbidding, under the presence of lingering black clouds. "Altair, tell me again what Malik's last letter said."

"He mentioned we had an informant waiting for us there. Other than that, we'll be strictly on our own. The only presence of members from the Brotherhood are back in the last town."

Rais calculated the small bit of information for a moment. "What else?"

"Nothing else really concerning Bethlehem. Be wary of the presence of any Crusaders. I don't think we'll have to worry about that. Bethlehem is in Saladin's control." he paused, frowning. "Then again we're common enemy with them as well..." he recollected the battle of Arsuf, his audience with the Lion himself. Currently, he himself found they might have been in more favor with the Crusaders. Saladin probably also remembered quite well the few assassination attempts on his life. Altair frowned.

"As for where the Crusaders stand, Richard is currently in Jaffa. Still waiting out the winter. That was about it, it was a short letter."

Rais nodded. "I was hoping to know how things were going back home. Wanted Malik to at least relieve some of the stress off his shoulders."

"We can't do much from here."

Rais again nodded. "Yes, but writing and ranting, does make one feel better."

"Maybe everything is going well?"

"Hopefully. You think there would be some contention again with his age, and among other things..." he said with a sleepish smile. Altair looked at him curiously, Rais shrugged the idea off. Obviously not wanting to explain all of his words.

"I'm sure they're fine with Malik's leadership. After all...we have a new goal for the most part. A goal, I'm sure many accept."

"Malik said he was going to have a meeting with many of Masayf's leaders about the subject of the Pieces. You think he would of wrote about that in his letter."

"That or the meeting hadn't occurred yet," Altair offered. "Or, he wants us more focused on the matters here, and not back home."

"Home." Rais mused, staring back up at the sky. "I really don't care much traveling."

Altair smiled, trying to reassure him. "You were always at, or around Masayf. I can't think of a time you were probably gone as long as we've been traveling. I'm sure you'll get used to it."

Altair wanted to hit himself, that was a terrible attempt to consul his companion.Rais had trained him at some parts of his life. Rais might of traveled like Altair did. Rais himself might of been Al Mualim's main puppet, however he married young. Altair could remember over hearing arguments with their leaders, Rais fighting to stay close to home. The leaders didn't want that. Rais was skilled, strong, young; but now as Altair looked back, seeing Al Mualim's emotionless face; Rais was most importantly: expendable.

"I hope one day, you'll get to understand how I feel. That one day, you'll take a woman to wife, and have children of your own." Altair's gazed into Rais' dark eyes. They softened, glowing heavenly, a man true to his words. "It's the greatest calling in life. To be a father."

Altair's smile was feeble, unsure of what to say and how to react. Rais laughed it off, sensing Altair's discomfort. "Maybe," he started, "Maybe one day Rais." he promised.

They were silent for a brief moment, the city's gate, in but a breath away.

"You know. I have a unmarried cousin."

"Mission Rais, mission."

_I thought the city was gonna be a bit more...grand then this. Hell, you'd think with all those Christmas hymns, it'd be a heaven on earth. _

_But then again, there are wars going on._

"Altair," Rais addressed, giving his horse one last loving pat. He tied his beast to the stable, "Be wary."

"Of?"

"Bethlehem hasn't been in the greatest of all conditions. Sharp loss of trade, with the loss of Christian pilgrims."

"Fear can destroy a city..." Altair whispered under his breath, quickly glancing to the looming city walls. He felt as positive emotions, started to fleetly drift from his body. He couldn't understand why suddenly, a misplaced melancholy seized a hold of his heart.

"Economically, things aren't running so well. Just be on the look out of thieves."

Altair smirked. "If anyone tried to rob me, they'd probably just cut themselves on the assortment of hidden weapons covering my body."

Rais grinned, patting Altair on the back. The two walked to the gates, easily passing through with no contention from the guards. It didn't take Altair long enough to see what Rais had spoken of to be true.

Something about the atmosphere, it seemed dark. It was too quiet. The way the sun reflected on the stone buildings, it wasn't bright, but dull. The shadows larger, and blacker.

"Tell me, do you know anything about the Piece we're trying to find here?"

Rais nodded, lingering a bit closer to Altair, cautious of any ears that might eavesdrop to their conversation. "Apparently, the report we got back, spoke of a fortune teller."

Altair sneered, "We're all the way out here, for the chance that we might find a seer?"

"Yes."

He scoffed, crossing his arms. "I understood the danger of the Piece we have in possession in Masayf, but a fortune teller? Rais, a idea of a seer doesn't sound threatening at all!" he harshly whispered. A man bumped against his shoulder, giving Altair a dirty look, mumbling to himself.

Rais eyes watched the man leave, realizing it was just an accident the two hit the other. "Perhaps, but think of it this way. If the enemy had a tool like that in hand, how hard do you think surprise attacks could be? They could know our every move, every plan, know our secrets. See? Any power, can be deadly, no matter how weak it might sound."

Altair didn't say anything, but turned away, glancing around at the city. It was his first time to Bethlehem, and he was a bit dismayed.

It was just like Acre in many ways. You could see the hunger, the fear, in people's eyes. They way they carried themselves, their posture, seeming to just carry on day by day. The way they looked at you, afraid to make eye contact. Just like Acre, they were afraid, that some army would come bursting through their crumbling fortified walls. More blood shed, for the sake of pride.

Altair felt unnerved as he and Rais walked by. Citizens would watch them from the corner of their eyes, silently examining them, with malice. Despite the large crowds of people, something seemed empty to their presence. Men, and women, still wearing their lavished robes, but with nothing to their names. You could feel, even without knowing who they were, the contention between religious factions. Jews, Muslims, perhaps a few bold Christians all mixed together. Eyes would pass suspicious glances from he and Rais, then to the man next to them. A glance shifted to a glare.

Hidden away in the darkness of the streets, hunched bodies laid. A sullen, starved face would raise every now and then to watch them walk by. Their glazed, lifeless eyes, ashamed. Altair watched, his heart sinking to the pit of his stomach, as a group of small boys ran by. Laughing, playing together, but in torn, threadbare clothes, without shoes or sandals to cover their blistered feet.

Pride. All of this was prides doing.

"What's bothering you," Rais asked, sensing a sudden change of Altair's emotions. Rais looked into the direction Altair was intently staring. He watched the boys, playing blissfully despite their condition. He to, felt heart broken at the scene. "Concentrate Altair, we're on a mission, don't let your emotions get to you."

Altair scowled, his fist shaking. "Rais, can you blame me?!" he whispered loudly.

"No, I can't. I feel the same, but again, concentrate."

"I, I..." he wanted to lash back, anger clouding his mind. He didn't understand why he was so angry, but he knew he wasn't suppose to let emotions get in the way. But for some reason, he couldn't help it. Hiding them, pretending nothing is wrong, mind on the mission, it seemed so wrong. "We're living in an age of foolish, pointless wars." he let the words escape his mouth.

"Altair." Rais rose his voice slightly above a whisper, still quiet enough to not catch anyone's attention. "Get a hold of yourself."

"Look at this city. All this because men declared this land as Holy. By what, stories? Stories passed down from men, men bending truth. Men and their twisted words," he hissed. Rais had grabbed Altair by the arm, glaring at him to stop. "It starts with one truth, then men take it as theirs, and look what happens! We have Crusaders and Muslims, fighting, believing themselves to be right. All religion is, is a way to control people!"

Rais roughly smacked Altair upside the head in a shift motion. "Altair, stop thinking. Shut your mouth, and keep walking," Altair wanted to protest, but Rais smiled at him cordially, then turned around leaving him dumbfound. Rais looked over his shoulder, "Now come on, or no supper for you young man."

He pouted, unable to revolt, and did as the older man said. Sauntering behind him. A smile spread across his lips, believing, this is what having a family must be like.

~*~

"I've been waiting for you two," a voice said from the corner of an alley way. Rais and Altair watched as a familiarly dressed man, clothed in white, stepped from the shadows. "Finally, my information will pass on to the Masters."

Altair glared at him. "Spit it out quickly, so we can get back to our own paths. I'm not in the mood to do any of your errands."

Rais turned away, muffling a laugh, at the surprised and frightened expression of the informant.

"What I have gathered, from what Master A-Sayf has sent to us, is you two are seeking a fortune teller. I have found an older woman with such powers. She lingers in the old trade districts. She charges for her work, many citizens go to her, looking for guidance. It says she lives with her son, a merchant, stumbling across hard times. The money goes to keep them fed, and alive."

He handed Rais a map, "Marked is the location to where she usually resides. That's all the information I have on her, but I have come across something a little more interesting."

"Do tell," Altair scowled, still on edge from before.

"I received words from my brothers in the nearby village today. They said, men clothed in white, with bloody red crosses on their tabbard's, were heading for Bethlehem."

Altair and Rais looked to another, coming to the same conclusion.

"And you were thinking this was going to be easy," Rais teased.

~*~

Hours after checking into an Inn, and planning for tomorrow, Altair couldn't help but find himself tossing and turning, unable to sleep. He stared out the window of his room into the black night. The moon wasn't even out. He didn't care much for the empty feeling Bethlehem was bringing. But maybe, it was just the transition of seasons.

He rolled over to his side, closing his eyes. Maybe, this city would be much nicer to visit in the summer. Visit when these damned wars were finished. Just, maybe.

"_How humorous of you boy, drawn here, by your own will, or the lure of its power?" _

Altair jumped up, gazing around his room, finding it empty. He laid back down, and saw the flow of black robes next to his bed.

"_You're no better than me. You desire to hold a God's power in our hands once more, that's the only reason why you've come, why you've agreed to Malik's whim."_

Altair found himself staring into Al Mualim's black, soulless eyes. The man smirked, leaning down to Altair's face.

"_Face it, you're the same as me."_

"No!" He jumped up, throwing the covers off him. His body shook, his heart beat heavy, thrashing, throbbing in both ears, and chest. His breaths, short, and quick. He rubbed his eyes, gazing outside, to see the sun starting to rise. He sat there, staring, listening to his heart race.

That man's face, that twisted grin, it was still stuck in his head. He could hear his laugh, echoing into his mind.

He slowly laid back down. Imagining the sky, Masayf, anything to clear his head. Humming to himself, trying to drown out his voice.

* * *

I'm sure they're quite a few, "Wait what's" about this chapter. At least, that's what I hope the reaction I get is.

I'm not too sure how to accurately portray Altair. I tried making him more lively around Malik, like guy's usually are around another. Goofy, crazy, etc. He always seemed to question, let his judgment, emotions get the best of him. To me, he always seemed curious. Oddly, a lot of the way Altair acted, I related myself to. He was suppose to be arrogant and proud, and aside from the beginning of the game, he really didn't come across truly being like that. As I would described Altair to my friends while playing the game, "All he does is say '**I DON'T GET IT**'!"

This was also pretty amusing the write, some of Altair's parts. Him denoucing religion, when I myself am a Christian, ha.

Now...I want sleep. Nighty-night.


	4. Flying

**Disclaimer: **Assassin's Creed belongs to Ubisoft. (How I wish I could marry Patrice Desilets to have writes to this game though. That and he's amazingly cute.) Oc's for the story, belong to me.

A/N: I'm sorry this update is so delayed! Started up school again, new job stuff, just like, urgh! And this chapter took forever to write for whatever reason! It isn't as great as I want it to be, or detailed. And I'm pretty sure some parts are confusing!

But you can tell I had fun with this chapter. I give Rais a fun personality to mess with Altair, which he does alot of.

However, enjoy. I will try to update between now and next friday. Going to be working on another Assassin's Creed story I randomly came up with Philosophy. ...How I got the inspiration from that class, I've no clue.

Any feedback on what you like, or would like to see is appericated! I apologize for the grammar errors that always escape me. My friends are lame and won't edit for me.

**Also. I edited the first three chapters. Only a few things I different. Not much though. **

**I am also changing the rating. I'm not sure if this story quite counts as M. But there is heavy curse words **(when if I myself don't curse) **and more violence to come. I can promise no sex and crap. It'll be clean other than language and fighting. :]**

* * *

_Chapter Four:  
Flying_

~*~

"You look terrible."

"Thanks." Altair muttered, shaking his head.

"Didn't sleep last night?"

"Had some trouble falling to sleep. Finally did, but doesn't feel like I slept at all."

Rais turned him front of him. His hand flew towards Altair's face. He leaned back in time to avoid being hit, Rais smirked. "Your reflexes are still sharp. You'll be fine."

Altair watched him turn around and disappear down the hallway. He sighed, crossing his arms. "Glad to know you have no problem hitting me in the face."

He followed after Rais, with slump posture, as if rainclouds were hanging over him. The two men looked so different. Altair with an air of misery, and Rais practically skipping down the stairs with an enormous grin across his face. His attitude seemed to be contagious, as many of the women lingering in the tavern seemed to be smiling back at him. Or perhaps, it was because Rais was quite the handsome man for his age. For they found him ridiculously amusing.

He waved, and hummed to himself. His humor was finally catching onto Altair. The hazel eyed man chuckled under his breath, focusing on Rais' song, trying to block out the night before. He was almost feeling content again, until Rais opened the door and the blazing sun blinded him. Altair felt momentarily blind, hissing under his breath.

"So," he watched Rais turn around, his happy face just as blinding. "You have the map right, where are we heading?"

Rais grabbed the piece of paper out of a pouch hanging around his waist. He unfolded the parchment carefully, starting at it for a second, frowning. "I'm really not too sure."

Altair peered over his shoulder. There was crudely draw pathways, some labeled, and a few symbols that he could barely recognized. One he did though, a star of David. Next to it, a name he had overheard yesterday while he and Rais looked for an Inn. He pointed to it, gazing up at Rais.

"I know where this is. If we get to here, all we have to do," he paused for a second, trying to determine what direction the next marker was located. "Is go west. We should run into the trade district. Then, just asking around, or looking around we should find her."

"Or," Rais paused, looking over his shoulder. He pushed against Altair's chest, side stepping closer to the alleyway. Altair heard the muffled clacking of armor. "We follow them." his soft gaze turned cold, watching as a group of knights paced on by. Their white faces under the chain mail set them appear from the other armored guards paroling the city. Tabbards, white with a striking blood red cross in the center.

"Templars."

Rais patted Altair's head, "Very good novice," Altair grunted. "And good job with the map. I was testing you."

Altair smirked, grabbing the map out of Rais hands. "Of course you were, Master."

Rais lightly punched Altair in the shoulder, before taking a running start down the alley. He watched as Rais jumped sideways against a wall, kicking of of it with his leg trusting himself towards the other wall. His hands grabbed the ledge of a window, then grasped metal bars covering it, climbing agilely to the roof.

Altair followed quickly. He laughed to himself as he scaled up the wall. It was almost difficult. It had been so long since the last time he was flying up buildings and across rooftops.

"Think you can get us there from up here? It'll be faster, and we'll probably be able to avoid conflict with our dear friends." Rais chuckled to himself. "Could you imagine their faces when the Piece is gone and we're out of Bethlehem."

"If you keep blabbing they'll be out of Bethlehem with the piece." Rais frowned, seemingly hurt. Altair smiled, starting to trot away. He picked up speed as the roof top seemed to run out. He felt his legs, on their own, instinctively jumped off the ledge. He flew over the crowd below, who would only notice a brief shadow pass by. That they would mistakenly believe was a bird of some sort.

He gave the map one quick glance, and scanned the city scape as he ran. His heart ponding in his head. Flying once more, the one thing that made him feel alive, feel free. Now, it was more fulfilling, a greater rush. His bonds from before were broken. How things were before, he winced, catching himself as his foot stumbled across the ground.

He recognized the synagogue in the distance. He kept running, spotting an a small gap ahead. Their path ahead was blocked by the oh so conveniently placed guard. He turned around looking at Rais, who smiled back acknowledging him. Altair slid across the ground, rotating his body as the motion slowed him down. He turned, grabbing hold of the ledge, feeling the rest of his body seem to suspend in the air. His legs slammed down, catching the ledge of a window. He glanced down, seeing no one in the area, and jumped backwards to the ground. A easy, quiet escape no one saw.

Rais landed next to him, "Where now novice?"

"Well Master," Altair replied quite courtly. "If you trust your lowly student, then I believe this way."

"Of course I trust you my dear novice. You are doing quite well on your test so far."

"Testing me again?"

"Of course. I'm trying to see if you know how to track our target."

"You know," Altair tapped his jaw. "If I do poorly on this assignment, you know it's just a reflection of how terrible of a teacher you are, Master." he grinned, chin up, proud of himself.

Rais shrugged it off, pacing past Altair with his arms crossed. "Good thing I'm not you're master. Enough of your flirting you girl, let's go."

They walked out of the alley side by side, intermingling with the crowd. "I'm just playing along with your game you know." Altair commented, shaking his head quickly to a merchant eying him, holding a woven hug.

"Concentrate Altair, mission."

"In my defense," Altair paused to squeeze past a crowd gathering around a merchant stand. He wrinkled his nose from the over bearing smell of freshly caught fish. Though the smell was actually not so fresh. "You started it."

"That I did. Only because--" Rais yelped, feeling his arm tugged by an over zealous salesman. "No sir, I would not like to purchase your jewelery. As you can tell from my lovely wife standing next to me, jewelery as fine as yours will not flatter her." Rais winked at Altair who's head darted the other direction half embarrassed, half humored. A few faces in the crowd were looking at them with disgust.

He grabbed Altair's cheek, pinching it roughly. Lips puckered, lashes playfully winking. "My flower, I thought I asked you to shave this morning."

Altair glared, miffed at the man's awkwardly teasing attitude. "You're not making it back to Masayf alive I hope you know." he pushed the childishly snickering Rais away from him, his light paced turned into more of a stomp. "But, you were saying before your humor had to intercede?"

"Ah yes," Rais nodded. "I was going to say at least today you're not complaining about how miserable the world is and all of its injustices."

"I'm having difficulty trying to keep focused on the mission. After a terrible night, physically and mentally exhausted, our little game was the only thing distracting me."

"Really now? Then I shall continue to banter you my flower?"

"The other game, master." Altair had really hoped no one was eavesdropping on their conversation.

"As fun as that silly game was, I believe we have reached our destination." Rais stepped on the tip of his toes, trying to gaze over a large crowd. Most, notably female. He found one man standing inside the doorway of a nearby house, watching the group by himself.

"I think there's the son, you watch the fortune teller, I'll talk to him."

Before Altair could disprove or say anything, Rais had disappeared among the people walking by to the shabby darkened home. He sighed, and stood around the circle, trying to peer through and over the many guests the older woman had.

Altair could see her head, blocked in a black covering, thick tuffs of white hair rested along the sides of her old, pale face. She looked up, lifeless fogged eyes scanning the throng. Her eyes settled on Altair, as if she could see him. He felt uneasy, watching as many of her other customers turned around and stared at him. He glanced around, trying to seem oblivious.

"You, young man." she called.

Altair blinked, listening to the stunned and amazed gasps circle around him. He swore he felt someone push him closer to her. He silently whimpered to himself. This wasn't how the investigation was suppose to go. He trudged to her, sitting down on the bench across from her. She held out her wrinkled hands, flexing them, begging his hands to rest on hers. Altair was hesitant. He snuck a quick glance out of the corner of his eye, looking for Rais. The man seemed to be looking back at him, gave him a light nod, before his eyes turned back to the older woman's son.

His hands rested on hers. He felt her silk fingers move around his, holding his hands firmly.

"How much do I owe you?" Altair asked.

"Hush boy, quiet yourself."

Altair blinked, staring into her blind eyes. "Yes ma'am."

"So that's why you're here."

"...Yes?" Altair replied, confused.

"Boy, I will give you what you've come to get. But first, I can't help be worried about you. I sense dark shadows weighing on your shoulders. If you don't fight them, your future, isn't what you would want it to be. They'll take control of your mind, and destroy you. That freedom you treasure will be lost."

Altair felt his gut unsettled. The woman closed her eyes, flinching every few seconds she would squeeze his hands. He was drawn in by her ramblings, oddly finding them comforting, confusing, but comforting.

"That way isn't suppose to be your future."

"Then what can I do?" his head leaned closer to her, intent on what words she had to speak next.

"Confide in the sky. One day, you'll see what it truly means to you. You'll see in true colors. One day, you'll live in clarity. You have to trust the sky, even if its af--" the woman entered her mystical tellings with a scream.

Altair jumped up, a Templar out of nowhere had seized her arm. He was too entranced by her words to notice his approach, but he acted fast. He elbowed the Templar in his chest, grabbing the elderly woman, carrying her away from the crowd and the knight. Rais and her son ran to his side.

"Mother!" her son held his arms across her shoulder.

The woman reached under the head dressing, pulling out a necklace with a strange golden ball on it. Altair didn't have much time to analyze it as she shoved it over his head.

"Wait, but isn't this your way of income!?" Altair frantically asked.

"Hush boy, and get out of here!"

The Templar he had knocked over was back on his feet, crying for help. His eyes glared intently at Altair, then wavered to the item around his neck. "The piece!" he shouted. He charged at him, sword in hand.

Altair ducked under the crusaders blade. He brought up his wrist, feeling the sheer force of his hidden blade unleash into the man's torso. Altair kicked the soldier back, watching his heavy body fall into his comrades arms. He heard Rais yell his name. He passed the woman a frantic, pitiful glance, she shook her head, sweetly smiling at him. Without looking back, he launched off in his partners direction, listening as the voices of the men screamed in anger, calling for help.

He sprinted, vaulting, hand grasping the edge of a wall. He felt his legs instinctively kick themselves over. His feet landed lightly on the ground, watching as Rais disappeared behind the wall in front of him. Altair threw his hands in front of him, pushing off with all his strength. It was sufficient to send his entire body high enough to kick his legs under him, landing safely on the ground.

He caught a glimpse of the white flaps on Rais' outfit seemingly wave at him around an alley corner. He took a deep breath, and dashed after him. He caught Rais' image quickly, watching as the man weaved past a poor old man, who fell over in surprise as a "ghost" hurled at him over nowhere. Altair leap over the poor man. He wanted to help him, but as the angry yells for their heads got louder, he had to run faster.

The darkened alleyways slowly brightened. Altair watched Rais run for a wall, the man used it as leverage to send himself flying to another wall. He grasped the top with his fingers, pulling himself over. Altair followed suit, landing in front of Rais, who passed him a tired smile.

Together they kicked off the ground, running across a corner side by side. The stone stairs impeded their speed. Altair began to feel his legs tingle, starting to get tired. As the stairway started to diminish, a horde of people appeared, blocking the entrance to the open streets.

Rais passed Altair a quick glance. Still at a jogging pace, they began to push through the crowds. Then from the shaded area, Rais caught a glimpse of a blinding sparkle.

"Slide!" he called to Altair. The crowed jumped out of their way, and in the clearing stood three Templar's with their forbidding broad swords raised. Rais and Altair skid across the ground, Rais going under one solider. He jumped to his feet, kicking the soldier's back as he was slumped over from his futile but powerful swing.

Altair slid between the other two. He kicked his legs around, kicking at the enemies ankles, watching him to fall to the ground.

Rais grabbed the remaining knight's arm, that was raised to attack Altair. He pulled the soldier towards him in one motion, bringing his knee into his chest. He cursed, feeling the presence of an armored plate under his tabbard. Luckily the blow was strong enough to knock him over.

The assassin's passed each other a quick glance. Altair ran passed Rais, jumping to the top of a merchant's stand. He vaulted over the low roofs edge, listening closely for Rais footsteps to make sure he was following. The air was filled with screams of citizens, and the cursing of their Christian foe.

He continued to run, flying over the alleyways. Then, he heard a familiar ring. The distinct church bell chime. Now, every guard in Jerusalem would be looking for them. And even if they didn't even know they were guilty, running across the rooftops for their lives made them pretty obvious.

Altair felt his feet ache as the landed on a metal roof. It was slanted, in a triangular angle, and felt his body started to lean backwards, towards death below him. He threw himself towards, pacing up the incline. His gaze looked up, seeing the roof across from him. He quickly looked down at his feet, the slope would give him enough speed to make it. The sharp increase of speed however threw of his balance. He felt gravity seize hold of him, trying to grab him down. He jumped off the edge of the roof, watching as the building started flying towards him. His fingers instinctively grabbed onto a lower ledge. Though the ledge was very thin, and there was nothing to support his feet.

Something seized hold of the back of his tunic, pulling him upwards. He heard Rais groan, and mumble under his breath about Altair's weight. Altair's arms finally grasped the top of the roof. He pulled himself up, and rolled onto his back, watching Rais stand over him shaking his head. The older man helped him up. They ran across the new roof, and jumped down, landing on a much shorter house, in the cover of shade.

Altair rolled across the ground, ducking into a garden.

"By the time we get to the gates, they'll be closed." Rais huffed, closing his eyes, laying down in the tiny cramped area.

Altair nodded, heaving. He peered out of the garden's flaps, sighing. "We really don't have much of a place to hide. Should we leave by night fall?" Safe for now, he thought. "I'm sure there might be a place in the wall we can climb."

Rais shook his head. "I don't have your luck. I do have an idea though, if you want to hear."

"Do tell."

"Let's go, incognito." he spoke with a sly grin.

"As priests? I don't think they'll fall for that anymore."

"Not priests. As Templar's."

Altair didn't know what to think of the idea. He looked down at his knees, the piece of Eden catching his gaze. "How did she know who to give it to?" he whispered.

Rais turned to him, "What did you say, Altair?"

"The old woman. She gave us the piece. Not the Templar's. I think, it told her."

"That or she saw the results if the Templar's used the piece, and she didn't quite like the outcome. Remember, we're the good guys."

~*~

The sun had descended lower in the sky, where shadows were starting to grow. Altair stared at its place in the sky, they only had a few more hours before sunset. Not much time until it was night. He bit his lip, nightfall would be a perfect time to try and make their grand escape, but he wasn't fond of the night, at all. A hawk couldn't hunt in the darkness.

"There's a perfect duo," Rais whispered, standing at the edge of a rooftop, peering down at his next victim. Altair quickly sauntered to his side, watching two Templar's slowly strolling by. "I'll get the one on the right."

Altair blinked, watching Rais climb down the side of the building. He leaned over, "But the one of the right is better. And you're taller than I am!"

"I'm older." Rais turned around, a beam in his sights. He pushed off the building, grabbing the floating piece of wood, nibbling pulling himself up. He smiled at Altair who read his lips, "I get to make the rules." In which, Altair shook his head, hazel eyes rolled upwards, sighing.

Altair jumped to his side, and in harmony, they quietly skipped across the banisters over head. The men in their sights were unaware. Their feet hit the last leg of wood, both lunged after the men, blades out. They collided against the victims in time, two silent and quick deaths. The men grabbed their lifeless bodies, and hurled them into the closest back alleyway.

Luckily enough, the blood hadn't touched the white tabbards, just the chain mail. Altair felt rather awkward as he slid his new outfit on, the armor was extremely heavy. The two wouldn't be able to scale any walls or any swift running while in disguise. His outfit in particular, was rather loose, and he felt awkward walking around as they snuck their way back to the stable to receive their horses.

"Let me do the talking," Rais said, as he adjusted himself on his saddle.

"Why is that?"

Rais grinned. "I have more charisma then you."

Altair glared at him, though he knew Rais wouldn't be able to tell under his helmet. He groaned, he couldn't see much of anything with this stupid helmet. He smiled to himself, no wonder the Templar's were always so oblivious to the Assassin's presence. He flicked it, listening to a metallic tone ring in his ears. Though, such a helmet would be useful if a fall went wrong.

The crowds parted from them. Altair just followed Rais silhouette, still having trouble adjusting to the helmet. While his eyes blankly stared at his partner, his ears listened to the voice of the people. "Pompous knights," he heard a man scowl. Guess the Templar's hadn't made a good name of themselves among the people.

Finally, they stood outside the looming gate. Both men slid down the sides of their horses.

"We have business in the next town, let us through." Rais commanded.

The knight guarding the door didn't even hesitate to step out of their way.

Altair and Rais walked passed them. Out of the corner of his eye Altair watched a man approach the guards from outside. The guards stopped him, pushing him away.

"Please, my family, I was just out on business. I need to get home."

"No one is allowed to enter or exit at this time."

"But please, I need to get home."

The man was shoved to the ground. Altair stopped in his tracks, turning to watch the spectacle. Rais was back on his horse, glaring down at his younger companion. "Altair," he warned.

But Altair ignored his words, and was jogging back to the two guards harassing the man. "Let him through!" He yelled, but the two guards paid his words no mind. Altair grabbed one, and punched him. The other guard reacted, grabbing Altair's helmet ripping it off.

Seeing Altair's tan skin set the man off. He screamed for the other guards. Altair kicked him in the gut, and run back towards his horse, listening as the gate's guards started to chase after him. The distraction gave the innocent man the chance to run into the town back to his family.

Rais sighed, watching Altair scramble back to him. "What am I going to do with you?!" he yelled.

Altair jumped over the rear of his horse, landing perfectly on the saddle. "Punish me, or get Malik to. But now let's run." he mocked with a grin.

"You know," Rais smiled once more."I'm starting to think I preferred you when you were an arrogant little bastard."


	5. Exhaustion

**Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed. OC's used for the story, are mine.**

A/N: Okay, I had uploaded this chapter before. But it made me angry and I wasn't happy with it. I went and fixed a few things, and now am reposting it. Probably am going to make many readers angry with the approach of a "new" character to the story.

Anyways, enjoy. I will try to continue to update on time. If you read my profile, it always states a way to read a little part of the "Future Half" of this fanfic.

Comments, concerns? You know how to voice those. Apologize for grammar errors.

* * *

Chapter Five:

_Exhaustion_

~*~

"You wouldn't believe it." Rais passed Altair the letter in his hand, looking the other way, trying to suppress his laughter.

Altair rose his browse, and turned to the piece of paper clutched in his hands. "Saladin is marching to Jaffa? So?" Malik was kind enough to keep them updated on what was going on with the Crusades, though it just made Altair angrier.

"Keep reading."

Altair nodded, and scanned his eyes about the parchment. Nothing exciting to far, he thought. What is going back home in M--"What?!" he nearly exclaimed.

Rais laughed at Altair's reaction. A smile was spreading across the young man's face, and he cheered. "About time he did something!"

The closing lines of Malik's letter just simply stated his and Nazahah's engagement. Altair was quite shocked, but too enthralled at the suddenness of the action. Malik had a fear of talking to her, and now, marriage?

Altair patted his horse, folding the note. "Come on Rais, let's get back home as fast as possible!"

~*~

He nervously paced around, mumbling to himself, hands shaking. He softly screamed, his hands running through his hair.

Abyad watched Malik with a smile. He stalked around the room in a circle , if he kept this up any longer, there would be a hole in the ground. Malik's hands rested on Abyad's shoulders, shaking him. Abyad protested, pushing him away.

"Caelin, why did you let me do this?!"

Caelin, as he called Abyad, sighed. "Don't you go blaming this on me, brother!"

Malik's flustered frown turned into a sweet smile upon hearing her soft voice. Just to hear the young woman he called sister talk, in the privacy of their home, always filled him with joy. He sympathized for her having to play the role of a mute boy.

Caelin watched as his moment of clarity fall back to frustration. He grabbed her bony shoulders again, dark forehead relaxed against hers. Her skin, back to being pale from absence of sun in winter. He stared in her to blue eyes, frowning. She sighed again, putting her own hands on his shoulders.

Full grown at the age of twenty, seven years his younger, Caelin blessed, or cursed for a woman, with an extremely tall figure. She was rather lanky, with long thin arms and a long neck. Malik stared at the tiny freckles that adorned the bridge of her thin nose and scattered across her pink cheek bones.

They were so different. He was dark, and solid. She was white and terribly bony if he ever hugged her. Sometimes he worried she would break in two. But, she was blessed with her frame, in the sense it helped hide her true gender.

"I'm scared."

"Of course you are." she smiled at him, pressing her forehead into his. "But everything will be alright."

"You told her to confuse me didn't you."

Caelin smirked. "Maybe."

Malik lightly hit his head against hers. She winced, leering at him. The scene from two weeks ago flashed into his head. He and Nazahah were on a casual walk, Malik had "coincidentally" bumped into her on the day she just "happened" to go run errands and buy food for her mother. Malik felt slightly ashamed to know her routines.

The day before just happened to be the night he and Caelin had stayed up until dawn, working on Guild matters. (Another testament to his accusing this to be his sisters fault). He was asleep, mentally not there. It didn't help that Malik always found himself with his head in the clouds whenever Nazahah stood next to him. The tired world was made up of sunshine, and bliss.

They were walking together, he holding a basket of fabric for her, a bland gaze at the road ahead with a goofy grin outstretched across his weary face.

"Do you love me?" she asked, casually.

Malik didn't mentally register what she had said. Perhaps believing he was dreaming, and imagining her voice. "Yes I do."

"So," she giggled. "Will you marry me then?" she had winded her arm through his.

"Yes." Malik replied, looking down into her dark brown eyes that lovingly gazed at him. He smiled back. She turned the smile, then started to giggle hysterically. Then realized what he just did.

"I don't think I've ever seen you panic so. " Caelin broke him from his trance, guiding him to a chair. "I wish I had been there to see it happen."

Malik's head collided with the table. "Stop patronizing me."

"I'm looking forward to when you two have your first child--" Malik started to repetitively bash his head against the table, dark cheeks turning crimson. "Don't worry brother, I'll be there to hold your hand." she sat next to him, holding his head to the table to keep him still. She felt him trying to resist, and put more pressure, hearing him give up with one last foreceful thud.

He didn't say anything, silently laying against the table. Caelin began to run her fingers through his hair, rubbing the top of his ears.

"You didn't sleep last night?" She asked, her hand falling to his shoulders, rubbing them.

"What do you think?" he turned to her, eyes half closed. She traced the dark rings under his eyes, shaking her head. "How are things with you? Your five students?"

"Terrific!" her eyes flashed. "Those boys extremely intelligent, and catch on to things quickly. All very different, but they're very close and supportive of each other." she laid her head on the table next to him. "I'm very happy."

Malik pushed her light brown hair from her face. He loved this smile of hers he was looking it, it had been a long time since he had seen one so sincere. "Good, I'm glad to hear that. Now if only I could marry you off and get you out of my hair..."

Caelin laughed, shaking her head, rolling her eyes. "Brother, you have no dowry to send me off with." She tapped her jaw, "Though, it's quite amusing to watch most of our brethren stop, and gaze at me in shock. A mute suddenly speaking is just part of mere miracles in the past."

He laughed, sitting up. "Yes, that's going to be a fun situation to explain. I've had many complaints."

"I've watched many women stare at me, then run away crying." she paused looking utterly horrified. "Do you know how...scary, or rather, uncomfortable that is?"

Maik shook his head, sharing her grieved and panicked look. Though, he laughed the thought off.

"A woman teaching the novices?! Blasphemy!" Caelin replied in a deep voice, mimicking a man.

"Maybe we can just tell them your a man with a woman's voice. That's slightly believable."

"Maybe." she patted his shoulder. "Well, it's off to my students." she passed a quick glance out the window. The outside was gray, the sun was just starting to rise. "Please try to get some sleep now Malik. Alain and I can cover for you."

"I'll be fine. Rais and Altair should be back today hopefully, so I'll need to meet with them."

Caelin's face turned grim, she shifted uncomfortably. Malik eyed her. "Am I still going to Greece?"

"Yes."

Malik watched her walk to the door. She turned around, gazing at him half-heartedly. "Can I go alone?"

"No."

"Then can I sta--"

"No Caelin, we've already discussed this. I'm not changing my mind."

Caelin glared at him, and stormed out the door. Malik sighed, sitting up from the table. He pushed his chair in, listening as the door slowly opened. Her blue eyes peered around from the corner, still squinted into a glare.

"If he accidentally dies, it's not my fault."

"Yes Caelin, of course. Now go."

He listened to her voice energetically yelp. It was followed by a chorus of boyish voices. Malik headed to the window, peering outside to see his younger sister surrounded five boys that only came up to her shoulders. He couldn't help but notice her height, nearly as tall as the other brothers in the guild. He watched the boys, who seemed to have been waiting for her, jumping around her erratically. Another year and they would tower over her, he smiled at the thought of watching the young men continue to grow. He knew them from toddlers, some of them younger brothers of old comrades. He leaned against the window pane, he wanted that brightness in their eyes to never fade.

Malik sighed, his eyes settling on the doorway to another room. He slowly ambled to the doorway, looking longingly at the bed that laid in the corner. As his eyes traced the covers, his eyelids grew heavier, and sleep was beginning to call him. His eyes shut, and he walked blindly to the bed, knowing very distinctly where it was in his rooms. His calf's hit the side of the bed, and he turned, falling over onto the cushion softly.

Malik remembered rolling over onto his side, staring into a hue of soft gray that transpired through his eyelids. His mind, clustered with thoughts of his accidental, but wonderful, engagement and maps. He swore every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was maps. He was feeling a little tired of that.

The light was brighter. His eyes flickered open, a blur of dark brown was next to his face. He jumped up, swatting at everywhere in front of him, hands passing through the air. The blob moved quickly. Malik's vision stared to focus, and the discolored blob turned into Rais' grinning face.

Malik sat up, groaning, rubbing his eyes one by one. "What...?" his room was brighter, and body ached. A pounding headache echoing through his skull. It didn't feel like he said slept at all.

"Told you that would wake him up, Altair." Rais chimed, head titled to the doorway. Malik looked up to his Altair leaning against his door, passing him a quick smile.

"Rais, you're one strange man..." Altair mumbled under his breath.

Rais grinned back, proud of himself, as usual. Malik leaned over, head in his hand, still trying to wake up. "You two are back?"

Rais shrugged. "Well, I think we are. I mean, we are standing in your bedroom."

"Which you two broke into."

"I wouldn't call it breaking," Altair started. "Everything in your house is still in one piece. It's more of, intruding without permission." He waved his hand dismissing the thought. "Alain said to wake you up."

"How did the mission go then?"

Altair reached around his neck, fingers grasping a hold of a thin leather string. He lifted it out from under his clothes, pacing to Malik, a golden shaped ball dangling in the air.

Malik squinted, gazing at the small object. Pure gold, and brilliant. Round shaped, but mimicking and apple's frame. The crest that held onto the string had a leaf-like detail curved around it. Altair dropped it in his hand, and sat down on the bed next to him.

"Rather simple to get." he added.

Rais shook his head. "Not that simple." he watched Altair glare back at him in response. The hazel eyed assassin still in somewhat of a foul mood.

Malik looked between the two, sensing Altair tense up. "But both of you are fine, correct?"

"Perfectly fine." Altair replied quickly. Rais' eyes were settled on him, unwavering and serious.

"Good." Malik made contact with Rais, who shook his head as Altair looked the other way. Something was up, and someone was lying, he thought.

"There's another piece we've located." both men's eyes were back on him. "The Isle of Crete. This time though, we are not too sure what powers this one might possessed, just where its located."

Altair chuckled. "Time to see the world, I guess."

Malik patted him on the shoulder. "Rais, I was going to let you stay behind on his mission. With your wife soon to have the baby." Rais bowed to him, mouthing a simple thank you. "Altair, if you felt well enough for this mission, I wanted you to go. I would, but Alain and I are still busy currently."

Altair patted Malik's shoulder this time. "I'm up for it." his gaze fell to his lap. "Get my mind off of things, frankly."

Malik smiled at him. "Thank you my friend."

Altair mimicked Malik's gesture once more. "Of course Malik." he paused for a moment, a devilish grin spread across his round face. "As long as you're out of 'arms way." he jumped up quickly, dashing for the door as Malik's fist came flying towards him.

_"And you were wondering why he hated you. I guess it's reassuring to know people had a sense of humor back then. No wonder where I got my terrible jokes from. Guess somethings are hereditary."_

Though the three laughed briefly about it, Malik stood up, feeling his knees buckle under him from his exhaustion. Rais grabbed his shoulder, holding him up, passing him a worried look. Malik shook his head, trying to reassure him. "You won't be alone though, Abyad will be going with you."

Altair nodded. "I see, so this is going to be one quiet mission."

"Not quite..."

~*~

Altair stared at the gray ocean, and the gray sky. It was bland, and the wind still had a bitter bite to it. He listened to the waves rock against the wooden ship, and felt it softly sway. The smell of the air, clean and sweet, different from mountain air.

It calmed him. The motion of the ship lulled him to sleep. He wanted to shut his eyes, but he forced them open. Yet another sleepless night.

He winced, thinking of why. He couldn't fall to sleep, afraid of dreams. He wish he had told Rais or Malik about them. Though, they probably meant nothing. The nervousness in his body canceled any attempt to reassure himself. He just needed to focus on the mission, or other things. His gaze caught sight of Caelin.

Already things weren't going well. He tried to be nice to her. He, no she, always had a attitude towards him, glares full of malice whenever their eyes would meet.

"So, when are you going to talk to me?" Altair begged, though with a scowl that made his annoyance clear. His fingers grasped a hold of the ship's rim, squeezing it angrily.

Caelin turned away, leaning against the railing, watching the sky. She closed her eyes, humming to herself.

"Come on. I'm not going to let the only words you speak to me this entire trip be, 'shut up'."

She glared at him from the corner of her eyes. There was a brief silence, before she smirked. "Shut up."

"Woman!" Altair cried. "I'm not in the mood for this."

Caelin turned to him sharply, an excusing finger in his face. "Don't call me that! And I'm not in the mood for this as well. I wish Malik had sent me alone on this mission. I don't need you and your inadequacies to fail this mission!"

"Inadqequencies?!" he snapped.

"Yes! I know about how you were acting in Jerusalem. Rais told me, as a warning." Altair cursed under his breath. "And frankly, I don't even need more of a reason to hate you further than I already do."

"So now it comes out why you're treating me like a dog!"

"Lower than a dog. More like dirt." she added, arms crossing against her flat chest.

Altair stepped to her, barely towering over the lengthy woman. Luckily she was slumped down, so he could stand over her and glare down into her eyes. "As your superior, I order you to bite that sharp tongue of yours and show a little more respect. I, like you, do not want to screw this up."

"I wish you could of stayed behind."

"I wish you were still mute!" he yelled. She opened her mouth, eyes flaring with hatred. "But now you feel you can do what you please and openly insult me for no reason!"

"I have my reasons!" she yelled back.

Altair crossed his arms as well. "And what are those per say?"

"Why should I have to tell you that? You know good and well what you have done wrong!"

"Oh no I don't my dear," he laughed back. "Come now, why won't you tell me of my misdoings, your majesty!"

Caelin slapped him across the face. "Stop making references to my gender!"

Altair grabbed her by the arm tightly, jerking her towards him. His face lowered to hers, eyes returning as much heat as hers gave off. "If you want to be treated like a man, then I will treat you like one." he forcefully scowled. He gave her arm one more tight squeeze, watching her flinch, before pushing her away from him.

"I hate you." she warned.

"Oh really? I didn't know that." he turned away from her, leering at the sailors that were watching their squabble. The men stopped lingering around, and began to move once more.

"It's all your fault."

"Yes, I know. It's my fault. Everything is my fault!" Altair rolled his eyes.

"You're a selfish, arrogant, and lowly cur." her voice lowered, finger back in his face. Altair grabbed her fist, pushing it away from him. She pulled away from his grasp, shrieking out of annoyance. "You want to know why I hate you? Why I detest you? Why I wish my brother hadn't of sent me here with you?"

"Why yes I do! I'm waiting for you to inform me of my misdoings!"

"You killed him!" she cried loudly. Altair watched as her violent gaze seemed to soften to something forlorn, he felt his stomach turn. She stared at him, unsure, trying to find her words. "I once admired you, you know that. I adored you, and then you took his life. It's all your fault he's gone!"

Altair would of screamed at her a moment ago, begging her to be more specific. But he felt surprised, and suddenly small. He didn't need to ask who she was referring to.

"You took the life of the man I was suppose to marry! All you had to make up for that was a simple apology to Malik, that our dear Kadar is gone? That's it?!"

She grabbed her arms tightly, shaking her head. "I swear Altair, if you life was in my hands, I wouldn't save it. I swear." Altair watched her storm passed him. He said nothing, watching her disappear past a door. He held his head, shaking it. This was going to be tough.


	6. Strength

Disclaimer: AC doesn't belong to me. OC's do.

**A/N:** Oh jeez. This is the longest chapter yet. And I still cut out parts of it as well to be in the next chapter. Should of done what I did in the past ones, but still this is long!  
Still many details I wish I could of added, things to fix, but I will deal with it for now.

I apologize for grammar errors and the such.

Also, please leave some feedback if you wouldn't mind. If you like it, hate it, or something. I love having it fav'd and alert'd, but feedback would be nice.

Enjoy!

**Also, if you are a fan of the story**, you can read a little part detailing the second part of the story (coming up within the next few chapters) that takes place in the future. Just click on my site on the profile. I would provide a direct link, but doesn't seem to like my html writing. *shrug*

* * *

Chapter Six:

_Strength_

~*~

Altair was grateful to see the shape of land in the gray horizon. His legs would be safe on land where he felt he belonged. He still wasn't comfortable around water. If men were meant to be on the sea, he pondered, then men would have fins like fish, but they did not.

He bit his lip as Caelin walked by. To avoid saying anything rash to her, or to appear disinterested in her presence. She stopped next to him, facing his opposite gazing blankly at the blue sea.

There was still tension between them. He thought back to their first quarrel just moments after they started their journey. He felt awkward, and unsure of how to converse with her. He desired to try to make amends, getting her good side would make the mission much easier, but he didn't know how.

It took over a week before she talked to him again. Obviously she as well was trying to reconcile simply asking him how he was feeling. He replied, and offered the statement back to her. Then, they stood in silence, and went their separate ways. He could only guess she had a nightmare about Malik snapping at her. His "angry" voice echoing in her head, demanding she act civil. Often, Malik invaded his dreams as well. That man had a way of controlling people no matter where he might be. He had quite the gruff and scary appearance when he wanted to, but Altair and Caelin both knew how secretly soft and gentle he was.

"We're almost there." she bluntly said, not bothering to take her eyes off the water.

Altair stood there, silent for a moment. He slowly nodded his head, "Yes we are."

He watched her out of the corner of his eye pull her hood over her head. Her light brown hair looked tangled, being blown back and forth in the salty wind. It curved under her ears, she had been growing it out for this moment, he figured. Not long ago her hair was shorter than his own which he needed to trim. He puffed his lips, blowing a steam of air up at his bangs.

He stared at her for a moment. The fact she was a woman, made sense with her overly young, boyish looks. She wasn't overly feminine as well. His opinion about her hadn't changed, to him, she was still Abyad. The novice who tried to drown him on multiple occasions. Also, a novice who used to stare up at him with large, doe eyes shinning with admiration. Well, until the accident at Solomon's Temple.

Her eyes met his. Caelin leered back, "Yes?" she sounded bitter.

"I," he was hesitant with his reply. Caelin watched his serious face turned embarrassed. "I'm going to try and make things up to you. I'll find someway to apologize."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't bother."

"No," Altair turned to her, head titled to the side scooting closer to her. She seemed to edge away from him. "We're brothers―" he grimaced, she smirked, huffing at his blunder. "Well no, but you understand where I'm coming from."

"Anyways."

"We're allies, not enemies."

"We're not anything--"

Altair clasped his hand over her mouth. She glared. "I'm not done yet." he snapped. "We're allies whether you want us to be or not. We need to work together, not fight and bicker."

"Too late for that."

"We got off to a rough start," she opened her mouth again, Altair moved his hand towards her mouth which she promptly closed. "Yes I know, it was my fault." she grinned. "See. I'm already reading your mind, allies."

"That does n―do not touch me!"

"As I was saying. I can't have us two lose the Piece because of our contention."

"I whole heartedly agree." Altair sensed a low tone of malice in her voice. "How about when we dock, I'll go to one side of the island, and you the other."

"That's not helping."

"I think it is."

Altair sighed, but smiled. "Whatever you say. Look, this is the most we've ever talked."

She didn't say anything for a moment. Altair watched a smile creep across her lips, Caelin turned away to hide it from him. "Sadly, that's true." she replied. She sighed, shoulders slumping, sounding defeated. "I promise to act more civil."

Altair continued to smile. "You had nightmares about Malik didn't you?"

It was the first time he heard her laugh. "It appears you are quite the mind reader after all. Please tell me you didn't steal that last Piece of Eden?"

"When we back in Acre, I had dreams of him yelling at me to study."

"He has quite the talent for that." Caelin softly chuckled, then let out a heavy, but happy sigh. "No wonder you've been tired as of late, he plaguing your dreams?"

Altair shifted uncomfortably. "You've noticed?"

"You don't look well," she pointed to his eyes. "You and Malik both get terrible bags under your eyes, and you look terribly pale. I've watched you nod off, and you just seem completely gloomy compared to your usual mood." she folded her arms, looking at the ground, unsure of whether to be proud of embarrassed at how analytical she was.

Altair wasn't too surprised by her analysis. She had once looked up to him like many of the other younger Assassin's did. It made him feel proud, she knew these facts out of respect for him. He always knew her to be very, very observant. Analytical and extremely intelligent, were her strongest attributes. Much like the man she called brother. Actually, in many ways she was Malik made over.

"Yes...I have had problems sleeping as of late."

She patted him quickly on the shoulder. He felt she wanted to console him then, but her soft gaze turned into a glare. "Well, learn to sleep better. I'm going to go grab my stuff, not much longer until we reach shore."

Caelin aggressively stalked away. Altair laughed to himself. "Caelin," he called. She kept walking, but her head turned towards him. "Thank you." She shrugged it off, disappearing into the hull of the ship.

~*~

The two assassin's stood side by side on the dock, looking around their surroundings, feeling slightly lost. Caelin had pulled out a map, examining it. The only thing both knew is they were geographically placed where the Piece was suppose to be. All they could hope it was still around.

"Wish we could of ended up in Greece." Caelin muttered under her breath. Altair passed her a curious glance. "Philosophy. It's interesting." her voice flattered to a whisper. "You might know that if you read."

Altair pretended to not hear her insult. He glanced around, watching ships float by, swimming in and out of shore. He watched as one ship full of brown skinned men heartily pulled up a large net filled with struggling fish. Gulls screeched over head. The town stuck out from the rock hills. The houses wond up the mountain, nestled in the hills, basking in the late afternoon sun. His head slowly rotated, taking in the sights of crowds pacing quickly, carrying baskets full of lemons, grapes, olives, and other such foods. Everyone on the port seemed busy, aside from him and Caelin.

She coughed, drawing his attention. Her eyes glanced at him impatiently. She was tapping her foot, and had stuffed her map into her traveling pack. Come on, you're in charge, let's get going, he heard her mentally sneering at him.

He took the first few steps. As he figured, she followed him, and had been waiting for him to make the first move.

"Where do you think we should head first?" he asked.

"I have no clue."

Altair sighed. He was filled with the desire to bash his head against the closet wall, or slap her upside the head. He resisted both, unfortunately he felt.

Altair gazed up to the sky, seeing the sun had started to sink in across the horizion. "It'll be sunset soon."

"I think trying to spend today searching for the Piece would be unsuccessful."

He nodded in agreement. "We'll look for an inn, and formulate what we'll do—Caelin?" he asked, watching her suddenly stray away from him. Her gaze was fixed on something as she weaved effortlessly through the crowds of people.

He dashed after her, apologetically pushing through the moving mod. However, they smiled at him. He wasn't quite used to that. Angry scowls or incredulous looks were what he was used to receiving. Their dark brown eyes, warm, and friendly. He, quite liked that.

She stopped in front of a sign on the wall, eying it carefully. "What is it?" Altair asked, gazing past her shoulder at the paper. It was covered with fancy and elaborate letters, large and excited, in an attempt to catch the eye. Altair peered at Caelin, who stared blankly, entranced by the paper.

"Caelin?" he repeated her name.

She shook her head. "Yes?"

"What is it?"

She took the sign off the wall, and folded it carefully. "Just, an idea. That's all."

"And that idea would be...?"

"I'll tell you later. Let's find an Inn."

~*~

Something had grabbed a hold of him. Altair could hear it screaming his name, shaking him violently. He couldn't do anything, afraid, staring at the darkness that ensnared him. He tried to force himself awake, but it did nothing. It was becoming harder to breathe. It continued to scream his name, he heard that man's voice whispering words in his ears.

His head gave one hefty thud against the pillow, and his eyes jolted open, staring at a pair of vibrant blue eyes. He laid there in shock, breathing heavily, head feeling disorientated.

Caelin's gaze, both fearful and shocked, didn't waver from his. She was standing over him, her hands on his bare shoulders were warm to his frigid skin.

"What the hell, Altair?! What the hell!"

She drew back the covers off him, he let out a heavy stream of air, and coughed. Those covers seemed like excruciating weights against his beating chest. She continued to repeat her previous sentence, head shaking like her hands, eyes wide, befuddled.

He leaned up in his bed, his heart and breathing still fast and short. He held his head, it throbbed painfully. While the rest of his body was freezing, it was hot. His head was light, and it made him sick to his stomach.

He felt the side of his bed give into her weight. She placed her hand against his forehead, then the back of his neck. Altair calmed down at her touch, realizing it was real, and he was free from his nightmare.

Caelin muttered something under her breath, flustered, still perplexed. She took a deep breath, in time with his, both easing their distress.

"What was that?"

"What?"

She glared at him. "I'm happily sleeping, then your frivolous tossing and turning wakes me up. My first thought is you had a woman in your bed, but then I look over to see you hyperventilating, moaning, pathetically whimpering 'no'. Then your body starts to convulse. I go over to shake you and you scream at me!"

Altair let his head fall, rolling to the right and left, listening to his neck pop. Caelin reached around him to the nightstand, grabbing a dark glass bottle. "I told you not to drink all of this. Hell, I told you not to buy it! Buy us only one room instead of two, and then waste our money on this!"

"It was to help me sleep." He also didn't want to tell her why he bought one room. It ashamed him to say he felt terrified to be alone in his current state.

"And look what good that did you. Just, bloody hell!"

She stomped off to the other side of the room, rummaging through her stuff. Altair glanced out the window. Light started to sneak through the pane. His focus turned back to his companion as she shoved him back against his bed. She placed something in his hand, and a damp rag lingered on his heated forehead. She popped the top of her canteen, shoving it into his other hand. Altair recognized it well as the object she used to always throw at him.

"Take that, drink that, and get better, quickly."

"I'm fine."

"I don't care, do as I say, now." she threatened.

"Yes mother." he replied dully, the two exchanged glares.

She sat at his bedside, staring aimlessly out the window. Altair watched her for a bit, before finding himself comfortable with closing his eyes once more.

Caelin coughed lightly to herself. "I heard you whispering his name."

Altair's eyes stayed closed. "Who?"

"Al Mualim." She took his silence for the answer she was looking for. "You've been having nightmares about him."

"Yes I have."

"Why?"

"I'm not sure." his eyes opened, staring at the back of her head. "They aren't always about him though."

"What else?"

"I can't remember by the time I wake up."

She turned around to face him. Caelin took the rag off his forehead. She lifted the back of his head up, and placed it underneath his neck. Altair shivered to the cold, wet touch of the cloth. "How long as this been going on?"

"Just since Bethlehem."

"Since we started looking for the Pieces of Eden." she whispered, staring down at the floor, mind working hastily. Altair could see her formulating everything in her mind.

"Yes." he replied. "Don't tell Malik."

"Why shouldn't I?"

"I'm not sure. But I'm begging you don't. I don't need Rais or Malik knowing about this."

Altair heard Malik's voice in his head. His mind transported back just before he left Masayf.

"_You've been bothered about something." the one armed man said._

_Altair didn't turn around to meet Malik's gaze. He could feel his friends bearing down on his back, unwavering. "Tell me." his words more of a demand than a question._

_Altair wasn't sure if he either wanted to confide in the man, or ignore the statement. He'd have to choose fast, feeling Malik's stare deepen, growing aggressive. That's how the man was towards him, demanding. It was almost futile to try and escape from this situation._

"_Raise told me most of the mission you were distract." Malik would keep talking until Altair gave in, or was annoyed. Of course, Malik might also resort to bantering him. "I heard you weren't preforming sufficiently."_

"_I did just fine." Altair's finally turned around to face Malik. "And I'll be fine for the next mission as well."_

"_I'm not sure if I want you going to Crete. I will not have you distracted. I--"_

"_Malik, I'll be fine."_

_Malik had a hold of Altair's arm, looming over him. His overbearing gaze made the pit of his stomach __churned__. "I won't let your pride get my sister killed."Altair bowed his head, accepting what his wrong. "Now tell me what's wrong."_

"_Nothing." his arm twinged with pain for a brief second listening to Malik scowl. "Nothing, I feel like talking about yet."_

_Malik signed. "Altair, I need to know your focused. I need you to make up for what Caelin will lack. I should send Rais, but with the baby coming soon. Hell, maybe I should be in your place."_

_Altair's arm broke free as Malik loosened his grasp. Both of his hands grabbed his shoulders, his face close to Malik, locking eyes. Altair could clearly see the drink rings of stress and lack of sleep on Malik's face. He was worried, and if he continued to do so, he'd probably make himself sick. His sisters unwillingness to partner up for this mission, sending her into danger, his trusted servant and friend refusing help. Altair didn't want to put more burden on Malik's shoulders. It was the last thing he needed._

_He forced a smile. "I promise I will be a hundred percent focused his time. Caelin and I will be safe." _

Caelin sighed. "So what are you going to do about me knowing now?"

Altair smirked. "Well, I figured you might enjoy me being in pain."

She rolled her eyes. "Rais told me you've been moody as of late. Nightmares, and condemning the Lord."

"Can you blame me, on the latter that is."

"No." she sternly snapped. "I'm a Christian, remember? Rais told me of your rants in Bethlehem, it made me angry."

"Just another thing to put on your list of reasons to curse my name, correct?"

She signed, rotating to face him. "As much as I'm in the mood to continue our banter, I have a mission to worry about. You as well. I can put my pride aside for a small while."

"Save it on the way home when you can rip apart this foolish hieratic?"

"Could not of said it better myself." she stood up, and walked to her bed. She grabbed her boots, pulling them over her feet. "You rest here, I'm going to go investigate something. I'll be back later."

Altair nearly jumped out of his bed. "I'm fine. I'm awake now."

"Rest."

"I'm fine."

Caelin stomped to the door, "Well if you think you're fine, you better catch up to me." she said, slipping out of the room.

~*~

"You keep eying those signs religiously." Altair stated, looking down on Caelin's who focus was elsewhere.

"It's just, I think we should check it out."

"Why is that?"

Caelin motioned to him, walking towards an alley. She leaned against the wall, staring at the paper she had stolen yesterday. "I remember once, when I was younger, watching a circus, back in England. The name, I can't remember, but when I look down at this paper, it seems nostalgic. Like it might be the same troupe."

She broke her gaze from the paper, eyes settling on Altair who made himself comfortable across the alley leaning against the other wall. He appeared interested in her find, and stayed quiet.

"Most times, circus have those oddities they feature. I remember one young man, he was unbelievably strong. He lifted large boulders with ease, and carried around a platform of his fellow performers.."

"Samson." Altair replied courtly.

"The story Malik had me research. I do not know why, but I think there might be a connection between the two."

"I think so as well." Altair tapped his jaw. "Only how will we know he even has the Piece of Eden?"

"I've got a vague idea..." she bit her lip, lost in thought.

In just a matter of moments, Altair found himself perched on the top of a roof, silently looking over the streets below. The area was circular, clear from stone, or grass. Just brown dirt. Tents of many colors were scattered about, and people rushed about in gaudy costumes. Around the circular clear lot, were buildings, young heads sticking out of windows watching the hustle and bustle below.

Altair caught sight of Caelin, who was mingled with the crowd that was waiting impatiently for the show to start.

An amused smile crossed his lips, and he couldn't help but chuckle. The two had gotten into another fight. Caelin fought to stay grounded, while he observed from above. Never had Altair heard of an Assassin afraid of heights. Rather contradictory actually...

In his heart, he prayed her theory was right. He continued to scan the gathering. Nothing but simple civilians, and Caelin sticking out with her light colored hair. All the other heads were black, or dark brown, fitting of their tanned skin.

Altair would stay high, searching through the performers on the outside, looking for anything suspicious, while she did so on the ground. He also made sure no Templar's interrupted them this time. Although, Crete had been fearful of the wars or their presence. He felt pretty confident they wouldn't show up here however.

The remaining number of Templar's were eager to continue their fallen brethren work. He rubbed his rough chin. Yet, how many among the Templars were just the Knights who carried that name, and how many knew of the Pieces of Eden. What number of Knights were being used, blindly following their officers to death.

He shrugged the thought off as Caelin's gray cloaked figure disappeared around one tent. The sky above turned dark gray, and the wind had started to pick up. The sea in the distance rolled fiercely as ships returned back to the safety of the shoreline.

Something flying across the ground caught his eye. His focus turned downward, seeing an unbelievably large man gruffly stalking through the smaller tents surrounding the main one. It was hard not to see this man. He was a giant, how any of these tents could hold him, was beyond Altair's imagination. His arms, legs, and neck were thick with muscle. The blue tunic that covered his body could barely contain him. Altair could barely see the mans face under his long, thick, black hair and beard.

The sun for a moment peered through the clouds. Altair watched its light glint off the man's wrist. Both wrists were encased in thick golden bands. He wondered, part of him thought about jumping down and finding Caelin.

The two had the same idea. He watched her reappear again, the top of her gray hood peering at the man around the corner of a tent. Suddenly her gaze met Altair's, he nodded his head, and motioned her towards him.

They two cautiously watched the man disappear into the back of the main tent. Altair jumped down from his perch, gracefully skimming down the side of the building, covered by the shadows and the dark atmosphere the clouds above were providing. He heard something pat against his hood. He looked up, feeling one rain drop collide against his cheek.

"Please tell me you're possibly thinking the same thing." Altair said, as his feet hit the ground.

Caelin hurried her pace towards him, nodding. "He looks...too familiar."

"The man that you remember when you were younger?"

"Has to be. Did you see--"

"The bracelets? Yes."

"The same golden color as the other Pieces. You think those could be it?"

"Well, it's the only idea we have thus far. So its our best bet."

"Hmmm...but how to go about retrieving it. Now comes the fun part. I think I have a plan. I'll distract him, you steal it."

Altair shook his head. "That's a little rash don't you think? I thought you were smarter than that."

"Whats your brilliant idea then?"

"Well, I think you should distract him and I'll steal it."

"Really? That sounds like an ingenious fail proof idea!" she snapped sarcastically.

"I know, I'm just smart like that."

Caelin rolled her eyes, and jotted off with a swift pace. Altair jogged after her, though watched her in confusion as her path headed straight for the man. So much for subtly.

The large man caught sight of them, and watched with a risen brow as the cloaked pair stalked up to him. Altair felt his head slowly start to incline upwards as he approached the man. Suddenly, he found himself in shade.

Caelin stopped, and Altair stood next to her. The man stared back at them, before a pleasant smile crossed his lips. Altair felt Caelin move closer to him, her mouth lowered and lips shifted towards his direction. "This is the first time I've felt short in my life."

"Myself as well."

The man laughed, his long, black curly locks seemed to bounce with his hefty chest. Enormous hands scratched his bearded chin. "Are you two lost?"

"No." Caelin briskly replied as the man's words left his mouth. His head tilted back, caught off guard by her rashness. "We need something of yours."

He sighed, rubbing his head. He tossed the wooden beam in his free hand, to his side. Both Altair and Caelin jumped, eyes on the wood as it loudly crashed against the ground, sinking into the dirt from the force of its heavy weight.

"So, more men in white here to steal my treasure?" Altair and Caelin met each others gaze, same thought registering in their minds. "I thought they might of learned. Trying to take my treasure without asking, guess a few more will have to join their brothers in the ground."

"You're mistaken," Altair cleared his throat, taking a step backwards, only to be more level himself with the man's height. "We aren't the same. We aren't Templar's."

Caelin scoffed, holding her arms. "Certainly not anything like that lousy bunch of hypocrites." she mumbled.

The man laughed. "I much like you little one. I should have figured with the lack of your red crosses." he stretched, letting out a loud sigh. It too was powerful, making Altair and Caelin jump as his long muscular arms stretched over his head. "I am Alcander Kalos, tell me your names to remember you by."

Caelin nudged Altair, who grimaced. "I am Altair Ibn la-Ahad, and this is Caelin..." he hesistated, looking to her for assistance.

"Caelin Maxwell."

The man stared at her, shaking his skeptically. "That's not a woman's name young lady. At least I think you're a woman."

Altair chuckled, then felt a soft jab against his shoulder. "My first name is Alexandria." she courtly replied with a smile. "I am very much a woman."

"Very well then," he turned to Altair. "Your name makes me think you're from the Holy Lands, correct?"

"Well, I assume that's about right." he pointed to Caelin. "We're both from the mountains of Masayf."

The man grinned, hands on his hips. "Masayf? I've heard rumors about the deadly shadows that lurk there." his gaze settled back to Caelin, a smile returned to his lips. Her forward personality was growing on the Alcander. "You're as white as his robes, and your voice, obviously from the pompous streets of England, yes?"

"Pompous? You know us too well."

His deep laugh echoed through the grounds. "Now, you want my treasure. Can I ask why firstly?"

"If you give it to us," Caelin offered, hands on her hips with a confident smile. "I will tell you why."

"Now that's not completely fair. How about this," he clashed his wrists together. The sound of the golden bracelets made the two Assassin's wince, and attracted the eyes of a few circus workers that were passing by. "If one of you can hurt me, then I will give you my beloved treasure."

Altair opened his mouth, ready to accept the challenge, but Caelin swiftly punched the man in the chest. She froze, before pulling her arm back quickly cursing and shaking it up and down, trying to shake off the pain. Altair bit his lip to keep himself from laughing, much like Alcander.

"I deserved that." she groaned in pain, whimpering.

Altair grabbed her shoulder, pulling her to face him. "I thought you were the smart one."

"I'll make up for my blunder later."

Alcander effortlessly picked up the wooden beam he had previously thrown down. Altair and Caelin looked to where it had laid, examining the half inch deep hole it made in the ground. Their gazes connected, mortified stress lines stretched across the others faces.

"I really hope you are the smart one." Altair whispered.

Caelin jammed her elbow into his arm. "Move!" she cried, jumping backwards. Altair followed suit, watching as the blur of the wooden plank swung by where his body once was.

Alcander focus darted between the two assassin's, obviously unsure of who to go after. A woman stopped, frozen in shock. Alcander smiled at her, waving her to go on, which she did in a run.

Caelin and Alcander's gaze met. He moved towards her, hurling the plank like a spear. She ducked, and turned to watch it whirl over her head into a tent, crushing it instantly. She listened carefully, worried someone had been inside. Caelin exhaled a relieved breath. The tent hugged the ground, no frame of a body of any sort.

She yelped, feeling her body lift off the ground. Alcander had her by the waist, then flipped her over horizontally, much like his weapon he had just thrown. Her body froze, unsure of what to do or react, being afraid of heights of any sort.

Altair charged at him, sword drawn. His arm extended behind his body, and swung with all his might into Alcander's back. The blade sunk into Alcander's sink, Altair's confident smile faded, waiting for red blood to stain his blade. He loosened his fingers around the hilt, and felt the blade begin to fall from his grasp. It didn't even break the man's skin.

Alcander let out a hearty laugh, and dropped Caelin from his grasp. He turned to face Altair, who gawked at his sword in confusion. "Nice try young man. Nice try." Altair looked up in time to see Alcander's leg flying towards him. He tried to jump, his arms made past his head to leave his torso open. The blow was heavy against his side, and sent him flying into a nearby tent. A woman let out a frightened scream, running away with a blanket around her body.

"Good God..." Altair muttered, rolling to his stomach. He held his rib cage. It stung to the touch, and it pained him to breathe. We're going to die, he thought.

"Altair!" Caelin hurried to his side while Alcander laughed at the two. She rolled around him, grabbing under the arms. They stood up together, Altair losing his balance and falling against her. "You going to be alright?" she whispered.

"Not in the morning, if we live that is."

"I'll look at it later," she helped prop him up to stand on his feet. "Thank goodness you're wearing that armor plate underneath..."

"I'm not sure if that helped or made it worse." he groaned, pushing her away gently, forcing a pained smile on his face.

"Can you climb?" her whisper grew softer. Altair was unsure if that was her, or from hitting his head on the ground.

"Yes, I think I can. Why?"

Caelin's face was close to his, blue eyes watching any movement of Alcander. The giant man still thrived in small victory over the two. "Climb up over there. I'll stay on the ground and distract him. I'm faster than you, especially without the armor or injury. Just keep your focus on me, alright?"

"Are you crazy!" he sternly whispered back. He watched as a crowd started to flee from the circus tent. Some curiously watched the sight, but Alcander turned to them, bellowing a threatening yell scaring most of the crowd off.

"Oh ye of little faith," she smiled, sincerely, for the first time he had seen since they landed on the island. "I'm the smart one. Just get up there to safety, and watch me, you'll understand."

"Will you two stop conversing? I'm getting quite bored!" Alcander said excitedly, grabbing another plank.

Caelin pushed Altair off, gaze stern and determined. "Malik's going to kill me..." he muttered, turning around. He limbed off, arm clutching his side, to the closet building.

"What, has he had enough?" Alcander taunted.

Caelin laughed. "I need to make sure one of us gets out alive to tell the others." She drew her dagger from its stealth, holding it protectively in front of her.

"But shouldn't the man be sacrificing himself for the woman?"

"Yes, but I'm not very traditional." she passed Altair a quick glance, seeing him slowly scale up to the roof. "Besides, I'm scared of heights..." she mumbled silently to herself.

Altair pushed up with all his strength, falling face first onto the top of the roof. The pain in his side started to surge through his body. He took a deep breath, and pulled himself to his feet. He could see below, Caelin running circles pass Alcander, swiftly dodging any of the blows the man threw at her. He frowned, despite how strong her pride was, she wouldn't survive an attack from the mighty Greek. Hordes of people were fleeing the scene. Those who stood by, appeared to be part of the crew. Some were cheering on Alcander, some pleading him to stop. Some seemed to be watching, thinking this was part of the act. Altair looked behind him, seeing a few faces lurking outside their windows watching the spectacle, a few passing him some bewildered glances.

He kept up with her on the rooftops though. As she dodged and fled to one area, he would follow. Still unsure of what she meant to trust him. Part of him worried she was going to get herself killed.

Altair heard a creaking noise. A sound of strained ropes swaying. To his left, hanging mid air was a platform suspended in the air. A wood plank, holding up heavy looking brick. Below him, Caelin had started to make her way for that. A smile crossed his lips. "You are the smart one..."

"Come on girl, are you even going to try and attack me? Your little dinner knife looks quite sharp!"

Caelin took a deep breath, trying to laugh as she rolled to the side. "I could try, but it would not do me any good! Maybe tiring you out might kill you, sir!"

"Just because I'm big doesn't mean I'm out of shape!" he roared back, continuing to grin. He swung his weapon at her, Caelin jumped out of reaction, but not high enough. The beam caught her ankle, she yelped, falling on her back against the ground. "Don't think you'll be running around like a frightened sheep anymore."

Caelin bit her lip, feeling tears rush to the back of her eyes. She grabbed her ankle, moaning in pain. She was casted in the shadows, peering up to see Alcander looming over her, his gentle grin turned deadly.

He shook his head, "I did quite like you little Alexandria. You are quite the young woman."

She faked a smile, panting lightly, trying to block out the pain. Her stomached dropped as he rose his weapon high above her. Her head snapped above her, "Altair!!" she cried loudly.

Altair, without much thought, drew his dagger and threw it towards the rope next to him. It cut through the rope easily. Piles of stones, and the large wooden plank vaulted towards the ground. Caelin watched it fall, and rolled out of the way, watching Alcander's body disappear under the rumble into a dusty pile.

The crowd watching gasped, believing this mustn't be an act. They were too shocked and frightened to move. Caelin laid on her back, watching the pile, praying it didn't move.

"Caelin! Are you okay?!" Altair rushed to her side, holding her up with one arm. She nodded, patting his shoulder, trying to catch her frightened breath. "Can you stand?"

"Maybe, I do not know. Give me a moment for my nerves to settle." she whimpered back. "Thank you," she smiled at him. "You are not as stupid as I thought you were."

"It would have been nice if you had told me your plan."

"I really didn't want him finding out."

The pile shifted. Altair and Caelin eyes widened, both cursing, both feeling doomed. Alcander emerged from the debris, with a booming roar. His black beard, mattered with dirt, blood trickling down his head.

"You two!" his voice echoed through the stunned ground. The two Assassin's looked to another, and edged closer protectively.

"We're going to die."

"Shit."

Alcander grabbed them both before either could budge. The two were strangled into a tight hug, Altair screaming about his side, Caelin about her ankle. "Finally, someone has beaten me! You're both so clever! I love you to!" He threw both of them on his shoulders, waving to the throng circled around them watching in awe. "Give it up for these two! Finally your great Barbarian Alcander has found a worthy opponent!"

"Put me down. Put me down. Put me down. Put me down." Caelin chanted, arms clinging to Alcander's head. Altair felt the urge to laugh, but instead coughed, groaning in pain.

"Come you two! I will give you my dear treasure! But first, let's feast! You must be tired!"

Altair leaned his arm on the top of Alcander's head. "Sir, you have no idea..."


End file.
